


Up in our bedroom after the war

by vague_ambition



Series: to love and be loved [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Bring Back Black Challenge, Canon Divergence - Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Dumbledore is Death, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Gay Sirius Black, Hurt/Comfort, In the Veil, Kings Cross, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, POV Remus Lupin, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Hogwarts, Remus - Freeform, Remus Lupin Lives, Remus Lupin deserved better, Sirius Black Lives, The author does not love dumbledore, but canon compliant until then
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 19:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16625432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vague_ambition/pseuds/vague_ambition
Summary: Remus Lupin opened his eyes to a blinding white light, blinking several times to try to adjust to it. There was no sound around him, and virtually no sensation. Was he real? He pinched himself—that was definitely a sensation, so he was probably real. He glanced down at his hands and was greeted with a sight he could not remember ever seeing before—his hands were completely unmarred. One disconcertingly smooth palm flew up to touch his least favorite scar, the largest one on his face, and was met only with more smooth skin.What the hell?or, Remus Lupin deserved better and so did Sirius Black, and the laws of magic and Death always have been flexible.





	1. Deals with Death

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Beyond the Veil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/41159) by [Atalan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atalan/pseuds/Atalan). 



> This is a multi-chapter fix-it fic that begins immediately after the end of Deathly Hallows! Cw for mentions of death and general sadness in this chapter, but this will probably be the saddest/most bittersweet chapter.
> 
> I own nothing, of course, and the title is from a Stars song of the same name which is also a Big Mood for Deathly Hallows.

Remus Lupin opened his eyes to a blinding white light, blinking several times to try to adjust to it. There was no sound around him, and virtually no sensation. Was he real? He pinched himself—that was definitely a sensation, so he was probably real. He glanced down at his hands and was greeted with a sight he could not remember ever seeing before—his hands were completely unmarred. One disconcertingly smooth palm flew up to touch his least favorite scar, the largest one on his face, and was met only with more smooth skin. 

What the hell?

“Remus,” said a familiar voice, one that often heralded more bad news than good. Remus spun to see Albus Dumbledore, in pure white robes, his familiar half-moon glasses perched on his nose. “It’s good to see you, my friend.” 

Suddenly, it came rushing back to Remus. The Battle, Dora falling, his attempt to save her, a bolt of purple light hitting him at the same time a red one did. Harry...Harry had been in the forest, and so had Remus, and Sirius, and James, and Lily in some way or another. 

“Is Harry dead?” He demanded urgently. Albus shook his head, a smile spreading across his face.

“No. But Voldemort is,” he said. Remus almost whooped before the conversation he was having hit him.

“And so am I, right? That’s what this means. Because you’re dead.” He wasn’t entirely upset about it. He regretted not being able to raise his son, but if Harry was alive, Teddy would be okay. He didn’t have anyone other than Teddy left. 

“Almost.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled in the irritating way that he seemed to be able to control. “You will be dead in less than two minutes, certainly.” 

“What?” Remus had no idea what he was talking about. “How can I be almost dead and be here talking to you?” 

“Remus, where do you think you are?” Dumbledore asked, as frustratingly vague as always. Remus, knowing better than to try to get a straight answer out of the man before he was ready to give one, looked around. It was eerily familiar, although he had some difficulty with the sheer emptiness of it.

“Is this King’s Cross?” he asked, finally. Dumbledore nodded, giving him a pleased look as though he had done well on his O.W.L.s. Remus found it rather condescending. 

“It’s a King’s Cross of a sort. You see, Remus, you are currently hovering on the edge of life and death. The curse that hit you kills you slowly. It’s supposed to be extremely painful, but you were hit by a Stunning spell at the same time. Thank heaven for small mercies, I suppose.”

“So this is...somewhere between?” Remus asked. Dumbledore nodded again, beaming at him proudly. Remus was trying not to be entirely ticked off by it. “But you’ve been dead for a year. How are you here?” 

“Ah, yes, I was wondering when you would ask,” Dumbledore said, the infuriatingly smug beam still on his face. “You see, it seems as though there is occasionally a need for a...job replacement around here.” 

“Here being death? Or kind-of death?” Remus clarified.

“And the job being Death,” Dumbledore added. “My, ah, predecessor was weary of his task. He offered me a choice: continue on, or replace him in watching the affairs of the world, ensuring that people cross to the other side, and, as a story or two has said, making deals when things go awry in order to ensure the balance between life and death.”

Remus gaped at the old headmaster. “Merlin. You’re telling me that you’re...Death? Like in the Tale of the Three Brothers?”

“Funny you should mention him, he actually  _ was  _ my predecessor.” Dumbledore said, chucking. “But...yes. I never was one to resist power, it would seem.” 

“Do you have much power? Can you save people? Or bring people back?” Remus asked. His mind was spinning—if Dumbledore could have saved Tonks, or could bring back Sirius, and he didn’t...

“I’ve only been doing this for a year, so I cannot say for certain that I know all of the abilities of the position,” Dumbledore began. “But there is no bringing back people who are dead,” his tone shifted, gently scolding. “People who are not properly dead can stretch the rules a little, but only for good reason. The balance between life and death is entirely too fragile. Last time it was tilted too far, we got…” Dumbledore shuddered, a look of uncharacteristic fear flashing across his face. “Upsetting the balance leads to the rise of dark, almost demonic, magical forces. We were lucky with the first creatures of this kind, in that we can fight them, but I shudder to think of what else could happen.” 

“You mean…” Remus could think of a few dark forces. 

“The first recorded Dementors appeared just when Merlin took up the position of Death. He tried to resurrect King Arthur, you see,” Dumbledore explained. “It did not go well.” 

“What do you do, then? When do things go awry?” he could barely fathom what was happening.

“If someone attempts to bring a loved one back from the dead, I am to ensure the veil remains in place, separating them from the world of the living, as in the Tale of the Three Brothers. In the rare cases, like Harry’s, where the individual has a choice to go on or return to the land of the living, I ask for their decision. In the unfortunately more common cases, where an individual has unfinished business on the earth, or is scared to move on, I ask if they prefer to return as a ghost and direct them to the appropriate train. If someone is stretching the boundaries of magic, as Voldemort did, in a hideous way to avoid death, I look on and must help the cycle right itself should there be an opportunity. If an individual who should, by all appearances in the mortal world, have moved  _ on  _ as they are neither alive, nor a ghost, does not do so, I am required to remedy that, and so on.” Dumbledore listed, suspiciously casual. Suddenly, the silence was split by a train whistle. An achingly familiar red train was pulling into the station.

“Is that for me?” Remus asked, smiling at the Hogwarts Express. It pulled to a stop in front of them and Remus almost sobbed out loud at the sight that greeted him. It seemed as though the Hogwarts Express contained everyone he had ever lost. James and Lily, vibrant and young, were hanging out the window, waving at him frantically. He saw Fred Weasley—oh, no, poor Molly—trading jokes with the Prewett twins, with Mad-Eye sitting nearby, less grizzled, shaking his head. They must be his uncles, after all. In Lily and James’s compartment, he saw Marlene and Dorcas McKinnon, sitting next to Dora. Dora’s hair was vibrant pink, and she was holding hands with Emmeline Vance. Remus was blinking back tears, when he realized his parents were a few compartments back, talking to Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. 

“Remus!” Lily called at the same time that James said, “Moony!” 

“Come on, it’s been too long,” James grinned at him, messing up his hair. Remus’s knees grew weak at the familiar sight. He spotted a familiar figure with dark hair a little further back—Snape was dead, then. In Snape’s compartment, he saw the figure of Regulus Black. 

Wait. Where was Sirius? 

“Where’s Sirius?” he asked. James and Lily merely shook their heads. He spun back to look at Dumbledore. “Where’s Sirius? He was in the forest with us, when Harry called us back.”

“As were you, my dear man,” Dumbledore pointed out. “Yet, you were not entirely dead. You will not be entirely dead until you step on the train, to go on.” 

“But if he isn’t here—” Suddenly, Dumbledore’s strange nonchalant manner made more sense. What had he said? _ If an individual who should, by all appearances in the mortal world, have moved on as they are neither alive, nor a ghost, does not do so, I am required to remedy that. _

“You were talking about Sirius,” he said. “Sirius is the individual who should have moved on but hasn’t.” 

“Yes,” Dumbledore affirmed. “Sirius Black should be on that train and yet, he is nowhere to be found.” 

Remus’s mind was racing. “So he isn’t dead?” 

“Not quite. I think he hovers somewhere between life and death, but somewhere that neither life nor Death can find him,” Dumbledore’s voice was grave. 

What else had he said? There was something he wasn’t saying, Remus was sure of it. He wouldn’t still be standing here otherwise. He wouldn’t be telling him this. Dumbledore always had operated on a need-to-know basis.  _ People who are not properly dead can stretch the rules a little, but only for good reason.  _ The edge of death. He wasn’t dead, not yet. He hadn’t boarded the train. 

“Which is more dangerous to the balance of life and death, somebody existing somewhere neither can find them, or someone returning from the edge of death?” Remus edged, cautiously. Clearly, he had hit on the question Dumbledore had wanted him to ask, because the older man practically bounced.

“Certainly the former,” he said simply. “Without a doubt.”

“And if someone on the edge of death were to strike up a deal with Death—hardly the first time a mortal has done so—that they could return to life and try to find this person…” 

“That is certainly a possibility. It will be incredibly dangerous. The person would be in great peril.”

“What’s the worst thing that could happen? They could die?” Remus asked, half rhetorically.

“There are things worse than death,” Dumbledore retorted. “There are entire realms of darkness that even I cannot fathom. It would not be a task to take lightly.” Remus shivered, almost despite himself. 

“If...if a person was to do this. What would Death offer them? In return for helping avoid a rupture in the balance?” He asked, finally. Dumbledore fixed him with a piercing stare.

“Has the person not already gotten a second chance at life?” 

“What about the person who is lost? Will Death want to claim him immediately? Or will he have a chance?” 

“Ah. I see.” Dumbledore looked to the train, where Lily and James were clearly straining to hear the conversation. “Provided that the person who is lost is capable of life, and the person who saves them is successful, I should think that Death could guarantee them both a death of natural causes. They have, after all, more than earned it.”

“Capable of life?”

“There is a chance that whatever lies in the space beyond the veil has rendered Sirius Black in a state where there is no chance of him being able to actually live. The Dementor’s Kiss, for example, does the same. While it will be years until we see a Kiss victim here, their body is still...somewhere, usually Azkaban.”

“If that’s the case?”

“It would be prudent to ensure his death, rather than attempt to restore his life.” Remus flinched at the idea of killing Sirius, in any way, even if he was just a shell. Dumbledore seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. “At least then, he would have a hope of boarding that train.” Remus gave a reluctant nod of agreement.

“Moony? What’s going on?” Remus turned to James, who seemingly had given up any pretense of pretending he wasn’t listening in.

“I’m going back. To get Sirius,” he said. “I’m not coming here without him.”

“You finally told him!” Lily exclaimed. Remus nodded, warmth filling his chest at the familiar friendly interactions. 

“Tell him…” James’s face was serious, as it had been the last few times Remus had seen him. “Tell him I love him. And tell Harry that too.” Lily nodded her agreement.

“Remus Lupin.” Dumbledore said, his voice reverberating with a new magical energy. “Do you swear to do everything within your power to help maintain the balance between life and death by finding Sirius Black in the space beyond the veil and bringing him back, to either life or death?”

“I swear it.” Remus felt an involuntary shudder run through his spine. “Do you, Albus Dumbledore, swear in return to both return me to life now and allow a natural death to both myself and Sirius Black, should I succeed?”

“I swear it.” The same shudder ran through the entirety of the station, and Remus knew instinctively that this was a deep and binding magic, as deep as an Unbreakable Vow. The Hogwarts Express let out a whistle and began moving forward. Remus waved at Lily and James, his parents, his dead wife, reunited with her lover, and the rest of his long-dead friends as they pulled away. He turned back to Dumbledore, choking on some unnameable emotion. He could swear his vision faltered.

“Remus, you must go back now, or the curse will finish and not even the powers of Death will be able to stop you from joining us permanently.” Remus nodded. 

“Okay. I’m ready.” 

“Good luck, Remus Lupin,” Dumbledore said, the same reverberations as the vow filling King’s Cross, growing stronger and stronger as everything, including Dumbledore himself shook and wavered and the floor of the station trembled as though a dozen trains were pulling in at once. 

And then Remus’s vision went entirely dark. 


	2. miles to go before I sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus wakes up in the Great Hall, and sets out to fulfill the vow he made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Robert Frost and this is a lot of groundwork for the rest of the fic!

Remus opened his eyes, feeling the way every nerve in his body seemed to be in pain. He blinked against the sudden, but much more natural, light. He was lying on his back in the Great Hall, which reflected a smoky and dim sky that made it impossible to tell what time it was. He made a move to sit up and was left wincing in pain. Dumbledore hadn’t been lying. That was a nasty curse.

He knew it was nothing short of a miracle--or a bargain, he supposed--that he was alive. He also guessed, if his position was any clue, that he was presumed dead. He willed himself to stop his mind from racing and listened to the Hall around him. It was largely quiet, broken by the occasional murmur and much less occasional sob. So this was where they had chosen to lay the dead. It seemed fitting, in a way.

If he closed his eyes, he could see the first day he stood in the Great Hall. The murmurs when Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor. The delighted whoop that James had let out when he followed his new friend. The way he had clapped Remus on the shoulder, saying, “You seem like a good sort. Want to be friends?”

But now was not the time to reminisce. If he wanted any semblance of the bonds formed on that first day back, he had to get going.

With some struggle, he forced his screaming limbs to move. Luckily, a lifetime of werewolf transformations had made him extremely accustomed to moving when he was in excruciating pain. Slowly, he raised himself into a sitting position. He turned to see a cluster of redheads on the other end of the hall, the source of some amount of the sobbing. Fred, then. He glanced to his left to see Dora’s prone body and felt his eyes well with tears despite himself. He knew that she would be happy to be with Em again, albeit sad to miss Teddy growing up, but couldn’t the war have left him even one friend alive? He saw Kingsley Shacklebolt walking nearby, escorting what looked like a couple around his age to a small body near the door. How had he ended up with the job of breaking the news to the bereaved?

“Kingsley,” he called as the man turned away from the now sobbing couple. The other man turned in his direction and his mouth fell open in a rare expression of utter shock.

“Remus?” he asked. “I thought you were--I brought you into the Hall myself.”

“Very nearly,” Remus explained. “As I understand it, a combination of a very nasty curse and a Stunning spell would have made anybody think I was dead.” Kingsley made his way toward him.

“What were the last words Albus Dumbledore said to the pair of us?” he asked, almost mechanically.

“Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him.” Remus recited. Kingsley looked at him with an expression of awe.

“Turns out the old man was right,” he said, finally. “Harry won. We won.”

“Voldemort...he’s really gone?” Remus knew that Dumbledore had said as much but he couldn’t quite believe it. Practically his entire life had been impacted, destroyed and reconstituted by the spectre of Lord Voldemort.

“Just a body, now,” Kingsley indicated a room to the side of the Great Hall where said body must be located. “Turns out the Dark Lord was just flesh and blood in the end.”

“Merlin…” Remus breathed. “All that death and now--”

“He’s just laid out like everybody else, killed by a seventeen year old, more or less,” Kingsley nodded.

“More or less?”

Kingsley chuckled a little at this. “Harry never takes advice, you know. I know you told him to stop using Expelliarmus so much but it did him alright in the end.”

“Harry killed Voldemort with an Expelliarmus?” Remus couldn’t believe his ears. Kingsley laughed again, quietly.

“It’s a whole story, but yes. I think perhaps you should let Harry tell you.”

“Yes, I should talk to him immediately,” Remus said, moving to stand. “Do you know where he is?”

“Ah, he’s hiding somewhere. Slipped away right after the Battle. Ron and Hermione should know where. Come on.” Kingsley reached out a hand and helped Remus up, and he hobbled out of the Great Hall.

***

Hermione’s fierce hug and Ron’s astonished greeting left Remus feeling like perhaps, even without Dora, he hadn’t lost all his living friends. He asked Kingsley deliver the news to the remaining Order members, not wanting to interrupt the Weasleys in their grief, or cause a scene by coming back from almost death. He would much rather talk to Harry about what he had seen--and now that he thought about it, the other two young Gryffindors would probably be helpful, too.

“Can I talk to you two?” he said, once Kingsley had left. “And Harry?” The other two exchanged a look, apparently having a silent debate, until Ron finally turned back to him.

“He didn’t want to be bothered by anyone, but I reckon he’ll make an exception,” he said. “C’mon.”

Remus’s heart ached when he realized where Ron and Hermione were leading him. The Fat Lady swung forward. Remus hadn’t been in this room since James’s stag party, a year after they had graduated, when he and Sirius had somehow convinced McGonagall to let them come back because it was the “site of our fondest memories, Professor!,” as Sirius had said. He stood stock still, shocked with the onslaught of recollections that the familiar, cozy maroon and gold decor evoked while Ron and Hermione went to fetch Harry. It looked identical. Remus could almost exactly picture Peter lying on the floor in front of the fire, Sirius spread out on the couch, taking up all the space he had never been allowed to at home. James would be in his preferred armchair, the King presiding over his loyal subjects. Remus himself would sit next to Sirius, hunched up in the very corner of the couch, pretending to do homework but actually writing down the prank ideas being circulated.

Merlin. He had some difficulty when he first started teaching at Hogwarts, but this was something else entirely. He felt almost as though he was occupying 1977 and 1998 at the same time. He missed his friends so badly that he considered whether he should have just gotten on that train, sat down next to Lily and James--

Almost as if he had conjured him, Remus thought he saw James descending from the boys’ dormitory. It took him a long moment to realize that he was looking at Harry, not his old friend, but it took Harry just as long to realize what he was seeing.

“Professor---Remus?” he asked, wonderingly. Remus nodded, taken aback by the sheer emotion in the boy’s voice. “You’re really alive?”

“Despite Dolohov’s best efforts, it would seem.” He responded, barely able to stop his voice from shaking. Harry didn’t look it, but he was quite quick, and Remus found himself suddenly hugging a young, scared man who was definitely not successful in his attempt to hide any crying. “It’s okay, Harry.”

“I saw you. I saw you in the forest, with my dad and my mum and Sirius and you were dead, you said that--” Harry was almost sobbing now.

“Other people would tell my son what his parents died for,” Remus confirmed. Harry took a step back and stared at him, green eyes glimmering. “Yes, I remember.”

“So, you were dead? Because that was the Resurrection Stone. It’s supposed to only bring people back from beyond.”

Remus shrugged. “I suppose I was beyond, although more in transit than anything else. I just...didn’t continue.” Harry’s eyes flickered with sudden comprehension.

“You were at King’s Cross.”

“Yes.”

“What does that mean? King’s Cross?” Ron asked, looking from one to the other. Hermione gave a little gasp which Remus had long since realized meant that she had come to a conclusion.

“Prof--Remus, you almost died, right?” she asked. Remus nodded, turning to her. “Just like Harry did. Except Harry had something making it so he didn’t have to die. But you...you were dead. Your pulse was stopped and everything.”

“I gather that it was slowed down to almost a crawl. I was not entirely dead, it would seem. Just incredibly close.”

“Was Dumbledore there?” Harry asked, suddenly. Remus nodded again. “What did he say?”

“It’s a bit of a long story. Should we sit down?” Harry nodded and Remus had to swallow a lump in his throat when Harry sunk into the exact armchair James would have chosen.

***

It took him longer than expected to tell his story, as Harry interjected with his own experiences at King’s Cross, Hermione with theories, and Ron with general exclamations of “blimey!” and “that’s mad.” Halfway through, he realized Hermione was taking notes. Eventually, he explained everything, Dumbledore claiming to be Death, (and Ron had laughed hysterically at the revelation that Merlin had been his predecessor) the fact that Sirius could be still alive, the bizarre train full of those he had loved and lost, James and Lily’s greeting to their son, (and he was fairly certain nobody had been entirely dry-eyed) and the deal he had made with Death, or Dumbledore, to try to save Sirius. By the end, he was exhausted--basically dying and coming back and explaining it seemed to be tiring business.

He had barely finished talking when Hermione ran out of the room and returned with a purple beaded bag, which made a suspiciously large thump when she flung it down on the floor next to her. He looked at it in surprise.

“Undetectable Extension Charm,” both boys explained in unison. Remus looked at it again, impressed.

“That’s a tricky bit of spellwork, Hermione, especially for someone who hasn’t got their NEWTs.” He commented as she rooted around in it for something. She pulled out a thick tome that made Remus’s skin itch a little to look at it. He reached to see the title, but luckily, Hermione stopped him almost immediately.

“The binding is pure silver.” She explained. “It’ll burn you. And yes, I don’t have my NEWTs, but I played a not insignificant role in defeating Voldemort so, six of one, half dozen of the other, I suppose.” Remus chuckled a little.

“Why do you have a book that I can’t even handle?” he asked, peering at it. It certainly exuded dark magic.

“Horcrux hunting,” she shrugged, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for an eighteen-year old girl to have a book that was clearly extremely dangerous. “Summoned it from Dumbledore’s personal library last year.”

“Ah.” Why was this always his response to things he didn’t know how to respond to?

“But...I think I might have seen--” she was clearly excited. A bright mind with a new task, never mind if it was a life or death situation. She flipped through the pages, finally stopping on one that was unsteadily titled ‘The Nothing Lands.’

“The Nothing Lands?” Harry asked, peering over Hermione’s shoulder as if they’d done this a thousand times before. Then again, maybe they had.

“The Nothing Lands are a space between life and death, which no living or dead being can see into,” Hermione read quickly. “In order to enter into the Nothing Lands, one must be in a state of perfect stasis. There is research into this being conducted in the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Mysteries.”

“Do you think--” Ron asked, joining Harry in peering over Hermione’s shoulder.

“It could be. We’ll have to do more research.” She seemed too delighted at this prospect.

“Remus, can I ask you a question?” Harry piped up.

“Of course, Harry. Anything at all.”

“You’re an adult. You don’t have any prophecies to fulfill. Why can’t you ask the rest of the Order for help with this?”

Remus felt a surge of hot, unwelcome guilt. “I’m sorry, Harry. You don’t need to deal with my...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to impose. You deserve a break, you deserve a break for the rest of your life.”

“No, no, no, it isn’t that!” Harry hurried to correct him. “It’s just that...sometimes I think that if I didn’t insist on doing it all on my own--on our own, I suppose--that less people would have died.”

“I don’t know your case, Harry,” Remus said, cautiously. “But remember, you’ve saved many many more lives than have been lost in this battle, Muggle and wizarding alike. And, in my case, I can’t ask the rest of the Order. They thought I was dead, and then I regained consciousness with little to no reasoning as to why I have survived. Now I’m claiming that I should somehow investigate the veil and bring back someone who has been dead for two years, who everyone knows I went almost mad with grief from the losing.”

“They wouldn’t believe you,” Hermione realized. ‘They’ll send you to Mungo’s or something.”

“We wouldn’t let that happen!” Ron exclaimed fiercely.

Remus smiled at his former students and shrugged. “I need help. I don’t think I can do this on my own. But I do know I can’t go to the Order.”

“Of course, we want to help you. We want to save Sirius, too!” Harry seemed almost too excited at the prospect--Remus didn’t want to fail him.

“I could always do with a new research project,” Hermione agreed.

“I go where they go these days, no matter what.” Ron smiled, reaching for Hermione’s hand. The three exchanged a look that was unfathomable to Remus.

“It could kill me,” cautioned Remus. 

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t,” Hermione sounded so convinced that Remus didn’t want to argue with her.

“Okay then,” Harry said, when it became clear that Remus wasn’t going to object. “Let’s save Sirius Black.”


	3. The Last Will & Testament of Nymphadora Tonks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 am the next morning found Remus singing desperately to his son, attempting to calm him down. After the fourth rendition of Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star, he had to admit that it wasn’t working. He had tried the new baby formula, and tried changing his diapers, but eventually, Remus had to accept what he already suspected. Teddy could tell something was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realized I couldn't just jump into action without acknowledging Teddy and this happened. Expect some actual #Plot next time!

Several theories later, and one much-needed accidental nap in the Gryffindor common room, Remus was straightening his robes and preparing to leave Hogwarts. He had plans to meet with Harry, Ron, and Hermione five days later, after doing research in the interim. For now, however, he had more pressing matters than saving his dead lover. Namely, the son he and Dora had almost left an orphan. 

It occurred to him within minutes of arriving at Andromeda’s house that, perhaps, word of his survival had not reached her, if her utter shock was any indication.

“Erm.” he said, awkwardly, knowing perfectly well that if Andromeda was to choose either of her grandson’s parents to survive, it would have been Dora. “Hi.” Perhaps he was an unwelcome sight, a reminder that her daughter was dead. Perhaps she thought he should have died with her. 

All of the rushing doubts were set aside, though, when his mother-in-law greeted him with a warm embrace. Remus was pretty sure he had been hugged more today than in the past several years, combined. 

“I thought you had been killed?” she gasped. Remus inwardly sighed, wondering how many times he was going to have to respond to this question.

“Ah, just barely survived, it would seem,” he edged. She looked at him, and he didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered behind him, as if hoping that Dora would appear with a crack of apparation. 

“But Dora is…?” He let his shoulders slump, and nodded. Although they did not have the relationship that they let everyone assume they had, Dora had been his closest friend in the last, dark year of the war. He told her everything, and she told him the same. He wanted almost nothing more than to ask for her help in saving Sirius, or to just talk to her. And Merlin, how the hell was he supposed to raise Teddy without her encouragement and cleverness? “Who did it?”

Remus jerked his head back up, hearing the same high-pitched cackle that had accompanied the deaths of too many of his friends echoing in his mind. “Andromeda….” he said, cautiously. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he knew there was no fooling her. She might be lovely, but she had been a Slytherin. She could outwit the best of them.

“Remus John Lupin. Who killed my child?” she said, her voice dangerously even, and her eyes hard.

“Bellatrix.” he muttered. He could see the hurt flicker in Andromeda’s eyes—that her own sister would kill her only daughter, regardless of how different they were, and how they detested each other, still caused pain. 

“Is she dead?” Andromeda asked in the same, emotionless voice. Remus’s mouth turned up a bit at the corner at this—the way Harry, Ron, and Hermione had told the tale of Bellatrix Lestrange’s death had been delightful, to say the least. “Who did it?”

He gave a small smile. “Molly Weasley. She called her a bitch and then killed her.” Andromeda blinked at him.

“Molly Weasley killed Bellatrix Lestrange?” she asked, stunned. Remus shrugged.

“I was out at that point—presumed dead, really—but yes, it would seem so.”

“That woman never fails to surprise me. Pity. I would have liked to do it myself.” She looked more like her family than Remus had ever seen here, with a sharp, fierce look that wouldn’t have been out of place on Sirius, Bellatrix, or Regulus’s faces. 

“Believe me, me too.” he agreed. She nodded, and then stood away from the door.

“Come on, then. I believe there is a young man in this house who would like to see you.” Remus followed her, hearing the soft cries of his infant son from the other room. 

***

Remus spent the rest of the day with Andromeda. He found that he didn’t want to let go of Teddy, and so rocked him near-constantly. 

“I never thought I would have children,” he confessed to Andromeda. “With my condition, you know. I can’t believe that he’s real.” 

“I always did want a little boy around.” She cooed at her grandson. “Mind, you’ve got your hands full with a Metamorphamagus. I know Dora filled you in on most of it, but if he has half of his parents’ aptitude for pranking, you will be getting letters from Hogwarts three times a month, at least.” Remus chuckled.

“As long as he gets Dora’s charisma, I think that he’ll be okay,” he said, smiling fondly at thoughts of his friend. 

“You know, after Em, I was worried,” Andromeda began. Remus looked at her to see a discerning gaze fixed on him, one that he remembered well from his early days at Hogwarts, when Andromeda had taken upon herself as Head Girl to look out for her unruly rebellious cousin. She always had been Sirius’s favorite cousin, especially after she got disowned. But now that her sharp mind was directed at him, he was a tad afraid. “I mean, even on her worst days, she’d always been able to change her hair color. But then you came along, and I know you weren’t what you pretended to be, but you made her very happy.” 

“Wait—” Remus was shocked. “You knew? And you didn’t care?” 

She smiled kindly. “Of course I knew, I’m her mother. I’ve seen her in whirlwind love before. Love comes in all forms though, and I got a grandchild out of it. Plus, it seems I always was going to be related to you in some way, between my cousin and my daughter.” Remus smiled wryly. “Not romantically, but did you love her?”

“Of course. She was the best part of my life, this past year.” Remus said without a second thought.

“And if you could go back, would you change anything?” She asked. Remus rather felt like he was being interrogated. He thought back to the take-out pizza and TV marathon nights, and Dora’s moans at not being able to doctor her hot chocolate when she realized she was pregnant. He thought of flipping through his photo album with her, and her listening when all he wanted to do was talk about Sirius. He thought of her doing the same, showing her sketchbooks from the first several months of Auror training, full with images of Emmeline over and over that were so realistic they seemed as though they could move. He thought of her face, flushed and incredible when she held their son for the first time.

“I would try to save her, but no. Nothing else.” Remus responded, a bittersweet pang in his heart from the memories.

“Then why on earth would I mind? You may not have been in love, but you loved her and she loved you.” Andromeda said, simply. It was this simple, easy acceptance of what was otherwise a very odd situation that made Remus tell her.

“Listen...Andromeda...I have to tell you why I’m here. Not here, here, I mean, I’m obviously at your house to get Teddy, but—” 

“How you mysteriously survived being dead for several hours, you mean?” she asked. Remus was shocked once again—the woman was entirely too perceptive. Thank god she and Hermione had never been at school at the same time, nobody’s secrets would have survived. “Remus, love, I saw your and Dora’s bodies. You did not seem to be on the verge of death in any way. You seemed as dead as anyone in that hall.”

“Yes, well, I suppose I practically was,” he admitted. “I saw...I was in a place. It was kind of like an in-between life and death. And—Merlin, this sounds insane, please just give me the benefit of the doubt—I saw Dumbledore there.” 

“Dumbledore?” Okay, she clearly hadn’t been expecting that. 

“Yes. He said that...that the balance of life and death can be disrupted if someone isn’t where they’re supposed to be. And apparently, somehow, Sirius Black is neither dead nor alive. And because I wasn’t fully dead yet, he could bring me back.”

“Bring you...back? But you can’t bring people back from the dead.”

“Right, but I wasn’t quite dead. Just nearly there. So I was able to make a deal.”

“A deal with Dumbledore? Who is dead? He has that power?” 

“It’s a bit of a long story...I know this sounds absolutely mad. Basically, the deal was, if I can get Sirius into either the realm of the dead or the realm of the living—and obviously I would prefer the latter—I can remain alive until I die of natural causes. But my being alive is dependent on me putting forth my best effort to do so.”

Andromeda stared at him for a long while. Remus felt distinctly uncomfortable, and was beginning to question if he had made a mistake in telling her. After all, if she had him committed to Mungo’s for being crazy, he wouldn’t be able to save Sirius  _ or _ see Teddy.  

“Well,” she spoke finally. “You’ve never seemed particularly insane before.” Remus cracked a grateful smile. “But I swear to you, Remus Lupin, if you die doing this task assigned to you by a dead man for a dead man, and leave that baby an orphan, I will find a way to bring you back from the dead just so I can strangle you.”

Remus swallowed. “Yes ma’am.” 

“Also, I expect you to tell me every time you are doing something risky with this and leave Teddy at my house.” 

“Of course.” 

“Good.” She stood, her expression unchanging. “Now, let’s make sure you have enough food at your place for the two of you. We’re going to have to get some baby formula.” 

***

2 am the next morning found Remus singing desperately to his son, attempting to calm him down. After the fourth rendition of Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star, he had to admit that it wasn’t working. He had tried the new baby formula, and tried changing his diapers, but eventually, Remus had to accept what he already suspected. Teddy could tell something was wrong.

“Yeah Ted, I know,” he sighed to the screaming bundle in his arms, a shock of pink hair just sticking out. “You miss your mum. I miss her too. But it’s just you and me now, so we’ve got to make the best we can out of it. You’re so loved, Teddy Lupin, and nobody’s going to replace your mum, but you’ll never be alone.” Remus knew that it was physically impossible, but he thought his son might understand him, as his wails slowed down into whimpers. Without the screaming, Remus could think a little better.

“C’mon kiddo,” he said, slumping onto the couch. “I know your mum used to sing to you but...she’d never do something as lame as Twinkle, Twinkle, huh. If she even knows it.” He glanced wildly around the living room, looking for any idea, when he hit on the battered record player and grinned.

“Oh, now that’s more Dora’s style,” he told the now-gurgling baby. He wasn’t much of a singer, but he thought he could manage a version of “Can You Dance Like a Hippogriff?” passable for a baby. To his delight, Teddy proved him right by falling asleep relatively quickly. He didn’t spend much time being delighted, however, because he quickly fell asleep as soon as his son’s breathing evened out. 

***

Remus’s dreams were unpleasant, full of shadowy figures and things he could glimpse out of the corner of his eye but couldn’t quite see. Whispers and murmurs around him turned into a constant scream, a familiar scream—Sirius’s voice shrieking—which then changed in pitch and tone, growing higher, shriller, nearer-

He woke up with a start to realize the second screaming he heard was Teddy, who had decided it was time for something to happen. He forced his eyes open and cast a bleary gaze towards his watch—6 am. Right. He was probably hungry, Remus expected

He stood up, still cradling the infant, and began heating up the baby formula. As he fed his son, he cast a cursory glance toward the table. While he had only been gone for a few days—he had left Teddy and Dora with Andromeda sometime in the late hours of April 30th, and returned from Andromeda’s late on the 3rd, he had a small pile of mail he had picked up the night before. His eyes fell on a familiar envelope.

Fuck. Rent. 

He wasn’t sure how to afford the rent without Dora, as ashamed as he was to admit it. Plus, what was the—

Almost as though he had conjured it with his thoughts, a Ministry owl tapped on his window. Setting Teddy down in his high-chair, Remus moved to open the window. The owl gave a quiet hoot as he untied the letter from its leg, and he handed an owl treat in response before it went on its way. Turning away from the window, he tore the seal to read the contents of the letter.

_ Mr. Edward J. Lupin, _

_ Enclosed is a summary of a last will and testament in which you are named as an inheritor. Please visit the Ministry of Magic Office of Inheritance at your earliest convenience to receive the inheritance based on the stipulations in the summary. _

_ Best wishes, _

_ The Ministry of Magic _

Remus shook open a legal-looking document.

_ Information Regarding the Last Will and Testament of Nymphadora Tonks _

_Surname: Tonks_

| 

_Name: Nymphadora_

| 

_Married: Yes_  
  
---|---|---  
  
_Spouse’s Name: Lupin, Remus_

| 

_DOB:_

| 

_DOD: 2 May 1998_  
  
_Cause of Death: Killing Curse_

| 

_Location: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

| 

_Known abilities: Metamorphmagus_  
  
 

_ Nymphadora Tonks is survived by her mother, Andromeda Tonks nee Black, her spouse, Mr. Remus John Lupin, and her son, Edward John Lupin. She has left all her possessions to Mr. Remus Lupin.  _

_ However, due to Mr. Remus Lupin’s status as a half-breed creature of near-human intelligence, he is unable, under the laws of the Wizarding World, to inherit. Ms. Tonks’s possessions then go to her next of kin, Edward John Lupin.  _

_ Should Edward John Lupin be under the age of seventeen, his legal guardian may sign for the will and testament, and receive a yearly amount equal to 1% of the total value of Ms. Tonks’s Gringotts account in order to provide for Edward John Lupin, until he comes of age and has access to all funds and properties. _

Remus laughed, bitterly. Of course he couldn’t bloody inherit. “Near-human intelligence,” that had Umbridge written all over it. He realized, though, that he didn’t even get a letter telling him he had been denied access to Dora’s will. If he hadn’t been opening the mail for his less-than-month-old son, he would never have known. 

“Should Edward John Lupin be under the age of seventeen,” as though they had no record of his birth and age, and location of birth, and all of those other things. “So bureaucratic,” he could almost hear Dora saying, rolling her eyes. 

At least Teddy would be provided for. Although...he wasn’t quite sure where he was to live now. 

***

“Are you staying in this apartment?” Harry asked, some hours later. He had owled shortly after Remus had received the information about Dora’s will and asked to come ‘round to meet Teddy for the first time. To both of their delights, Teddy had taken immediately to Harry, waving chubby hands around and gurgling from his lap. 

“Ah, I’m not…” Remus trailed off, realizing that the newspapers with adverts for renting apartments were scattered all over the table, and would definitely contradict any lie he told. 

“Thought so.” Harry said. Remus had, after all, already mentioned the will thing after some prying. “Listen, and don’t say no right away, and it isn’t imposing because I’m asking you, but would you maybe want to come stay at Grimmauld Place for a bit? You wouldn’t be the only one—Ron and Hermione will definitely be there, and I think George is taking a room, because he doesn’t feel like going back to...well, his and Fred’s. Charlie, too, doesn’t have anywhere to stay while he’s in town other than the Burrow and nobody really wants to impose on Molly. It’s as good as your place as it is mine, and I bet you could use some extra hands to help with the baby.” 

“Harry, I couldn’t possibly…”

“Look, I’m pretty sure my dad and mum would do the same. In fact, I know they would. And Ron, Hermione, and I are going to be around basically all the time, see, because we’re taking a bit of a break from dark wizard hunting and such. Hermione has got us booked at a mind-healer, she says we should probably go.”

“Sensible girl,” Remus deferred. 

“Even Professor McGonagall is going to stay for a while. Her quarters in Hogwarts got damaged during the war,” Harry insisted. “And I know you don’t have anywhere to go. And I also know that I need help making the house inhabitable again, if you feel like you need something to do. Plus, it’ll be easier for helping rescue Sirius.” 

Remus sighed. He recognized the wheedling tone in Harry’s voice—James had used it to get him many a detention. There was no way he was going to win this one. “Fine, Prongslet. Fine.” 

Harry looked at him strangely. “What did you just call me?” 

“Oh,” Remus chuckled, realizing his slip of the tongue. “Nothing, just something we used to call you back when you were a baby. Sirius started it, I believe.” 

Harry beamed. “I like that. Much better than The Chosen One. Now, come on, do you need help packing? When do you have to be out by?”

“Tomorrow…” Remus admitted, reluctantly. Harry rolled his eyes at him. 

“Merlin, were you always this stubborn at accepting help? How’d the others get you to agree to the whole animagus thing?” 

“They, erm…” Remus realized this was practically self incrimination, but oh well. “They didn’t tell me until they had already done it.”

Harry laughed, and Teddy gurgled, and Remus couldn’t help but join in. 


	4. When in doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> go to the library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on the update, Thanksgiving is a time! 
> 
> I'd like to acknowledge the wonderful comment that encouraged me to keep writing this chapter throughout the break! Thank you so much, Toby! Your comments really made my day!
> 
> UPDATE: I edited some typos that I noticed on 12/4/18!

Remus settled into an easy routine after his move to No. 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry was always happy to watch Teddy if he had to pop out to the shops, and Teddy began sleeping a little easier with more people around. He was staying in his and Sirius’s old room, but between Teddy’s cribs and toys, and Remus’s own framed photographs of the Marauders, Sirius, and even a few of Tonks, it was a little less painful. Not pain free, of course, but the heartache was mixed with reminders of happiness.

There was another perk to living at Grimmauld Place again. Namely, the library. The Black Library--and wasn’t that a dramatic name--had, unsurprisingly, an extensive collection of books on Dark magic, along with any magic that was overlooked by the general wizard population for decency’s sake. And no, Remus really did not need to know a hex that turned one’s enemy’s fingers into male genitalia. He knew it now, as it that was in the third book he picked up, thanks to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. It did explain where James and Sirius had gotten some of their more...creative ideas from, though.

More useful to Remus’s purposes, however, was a section he had generally steered clear of when he was first living in Grimmauld Place, labeled with an ominous signpost (who had signposts in a library?) that said _The Darke Section_. He had of course been in the library before, but he had opted instead for fictional and occasional Defense texts. Not that Sirius had left him much time to read, the attention hog. Remus smiled softly to himself before remembering with a familiar pang that his lover was dead. Well. Kind of dead.

Which was why he was exploring the _Magic Moste Fowle_ and _Deathe Defying_ sections of the Black library--and seriously, how long had it been since someone had updated these labels? Also, who organized books in their library by labels like this instead of a reasonable number system? Something which only increased his confusion was the fact that the authors, when they were listed, suggested that the books were in no discernable alphabetic order. By his second week at Grimmauld Place, he realized each subsection was organized from least to most horrifying or dangerous book. Great.

There was even a section which he had to ask the others to read and summarize for him--the _Darke Creature_ Section--as all of the books were bound with silver. There also seemed to be any number of traps against any and all beings who might fall under the purview of a “Darke Creature,” including vampires, judging by the sheer amount of garlic hanging in that section and, bizarrely, trolls, as there were anti-troll wards around all of the shelves. Remus had chuckled bitterly when he realized--probably manuals on killing people like him, that they didn’t want people like him able to get ahold of. Worth studying, not worth teaching.

It was nearing the middle of July when Remus finally hit on a lead, in the middle of the _Magic Moste Fowle_ section. Much like the silver book Hermione had in her bag--which Remus now realized Dumbledore may have borrowed from the Black Library--the journal he found only contained a small tidbit of useful information. After leafing through it, he realized that there was  a single entry that applied to him. It read:

_Journal--_

_Although you are nought but a bit of parchment, I feel as though I simply must confide in someone, and after seeing what I have most recently seen, I feel as though I should put it to words. Yet, I do not know who I could trust. Thus, an entry in a journal is the only way._

_There is somewhere where the most talented of wizards may not go. It is beautiful, and terrible but not for normal mortals to comprehend. I write this now because of my lover. The Wizards’ Council asked her to comprehend the other realm. She expressed caution. The council insisted that intelligent, clever, and knowledgeable people (which she was) would survive this reconnaissance mission. The Other Place. I watched as she was burned apart. Yet, as I saw, the Vampyre and the Wolf, as members of our alliance, were able to (in their most human states, that is) find the most recent of our numbers taken Nowhere and bring them back, including her.  She was mostly the same as she had been, but has a greater knowledge of others’ brains and emotions, to a depth which only magic can explain._

_I do not know how to explain her changes. I intended to marry her, despite mother and father’s wishes (her family, although pureblood, is not what they expected for me) but now she is distant, and I cannot reach her. I fear that much time in The Other Place has hurt her. I do not know what to do._

_Yours in the moments of incomprehensibility,_

_Altair Black_

Remus stared at the page. Altair Black must have been alive decades, if not centuries, ago--Sirius had never mentioned him, although the star name certainly checked out. He reread it again and again, tracing it for additional information. While the mention of “the Wolf” (especially in relation to “the Vampyre”) made him flinch, he tried to look past that information for something else. It helped--the word “Nowhere,” used only once, got him on a new idea. He practically sprinted to the other part of the library.

***

“Uh...Professor--sorry, Remus? What are you doing in the Transfiguration section? With all these books?” Hermione’s voice shocked him out of his stupor some three or four hours later. Remus looked up to see her staring at him in confusion, Ron and Harry standing behind her. He staggered to his feet, holding up the book in his hand.

“I think I figured it out,” he said. “I think I know where Sirius is.” Harry ran up to him, eager to see what he found. Remus read out loud:

_Vanished objects go into that which does not exist in any place, yet clearly they go to some place. That is to say, they go into Nonbeing, or Nowhere. Nowhere exists, and it grows more crowded every day. The Department of Mysteries conducts research on it currently, although the author does not know of what nature this research is. We do know, however, that the only people who have been successfully used to peruse Nonbeing are humans with magical afflictions--specifically, a hag named Marinda, it would seem, as she has come to us in fear of those at The Department of Mysteries--and they found it to be filled with items beyond all belief. But Nowhere is also filled with something we cannot understand._

“Well this is great,” Ron spoke once Remus had finished reading the passage. “You’ve a magical affliction. You can get into this place.”

“Correct, Ronald, but are we sure that the Nowhere in this book is the same as wherever Sirius is stuck?” Hermione followed her boyfriend’s ideas with a quick interrogation belied by the fond look on her face.

“It does seem to be the same, based on the books I have read about any similar place in…” Remus said, holding up the diary. Ron stuck his tongue out at Hermione who, to Remus’s amusement, blushed bright red. Remus decided to stop the conversation by reading out Altair Black’s diary. At the end, all three young adults were staring at him.

“Nowhere, or beyond the Veil,” Harry added. Ron and Hermione nodded, clearly attempting to get the attention off of them, although it not escape Remus’s attention that they were holding hands.

“Exactly, Harry,” Remus could almost hear Sirius mocking him for slipping into what the other man had always called ‘teacher mode.’ “I think that perhaps, it may take--”

“Someone with an additional magical signature, such as a vampire, hag or…” Hermione began.

With a typical lack of tact, Ron burst in. “Or a werewolf.” Harry and Hermione both flinched but Remus only smiled kindly.

“Or a werewolf,” he agreed.

Hermione had a calculating look on her face, and Ron and Harry were looking at her expectantly, as though they knew what she was about to be brilliant. Remus couldn't help but agree with them. 

“So we know that the space beyond the veil is the same as where Vanished objects know, and we know that you’re the only one of us--as a werewolf, you see--who can enter. But we don’t know where Sirius might be. Which suggests that you should merely enter where Sirius left and that’s your best chance.” She said, concisely. Remus couldn’t help but feel that she was issuing a death sentence.

Harry’s face had suddenly shifted to an absolutely horrified expression, as soon as he realized what Hermione meant.

“You can’t go! We don’t have enough of a plan!” He exclaimed. Remus looked at Hermione’s determined face, thought about the comments of the changed lover in Black's journal, and nodded, swallowing the bone-deep fear he felt.

“I’ll go. Let’s do some more research, if it makes you feel better, but I am going to go to Nowhere, the Other Place, and save Sirius. As soon as possible.”


	5. Into non-being

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But now they were here, sometime around one a.m. when it was bound to be empty, standing in front of the sinister, fluttering veil, and bile was rising in Remus's throat as he stared at the place where he last saw Sirius. A glance sideways told him that Harry was having a similar reaction.

It turned out that Remus had, perhaps, spoken a tad too soon. It took almost another whole week of preparation to figure out how exactly he could go into Nonbeing, and yet another to get the necessary clearance to go into the Department of Mysteries without alerting the Unspeakables--thank goodness Kingsley was in charge, otherwise they would have had to resort to sneaking in, and they all knew how that ended last time. Thank goodness, too, that Kingsley wasn’t the type to ask too many questions that Remus didn’t feel as though he could answer. 

Hermione and Remus had decided jointly that they would wait until they were in the Department of Mysteries to explain to Harry exactly what would happen, so that he didn’t try to stop Remus. For her part, Hermione didn’t seem very comfortable with their safety precautions either, but she knew better than to try to convince Remus not to attempt this. After all, he wasn’t sure if he would even remain alive if he didn’t try. 

But now they were here, sometime around one a.m. when it was bound to be empty, standing in front of the sinister, fluttering veil, and bile was rising in his throat as he stared at the place where he last saw Sirius. A glance sideways told him that Harry was having a similar reaction.

“Okay.” Hermione began. She pulled a short rope out of her bag. “I’ve put a modified Undetectable Extension Charm on this--it should expand as long as you need it to. We don’t know what kind of magic you’ll be able to use once you’re Nowhere, so I’ve spelled it to change color based on your status.”

“What do you mean?” Remus asked, staring at her in surprise. She flushed a little, proudly.

“‘Mione?” Harry sounded even more confused than Remus.

“Well, it was Ron’s idea, actually,” she said. “His mum has that clock, you know, that shows how the family members are doing.” 

“Yeah, and even if someone is under a Fidelius Charm or anything like that, you still know if they’re okay or not.” Ron explained. “So we decided to try to do something similar.”

“So we tested with various blocking enchantments and such, and it seems like it’s as good of a bet as we have.” 

“And we asked mum about it and she said that there was a spell fixed for everyone’s magical signature on it, that’s how it works, see,” Ron beamed at Hermione. “And ‘Mione, because she’s brilliant, found a bunch of books on how to do that and bam!--like she said, we tested it out first, and she spelled it to your signature.” 

“In two weeks?” Remus clarified. Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. “Impressive, even for you.” 

“Why do you need a rope?” Harry asked, his head turning wildly between them. Remus sighed, turning to Harry.

“Harry, in order to enter the veil, I have to be unconscious,” he began. “We don’t know what it’s like in there, so we don’t know if I’ll be able to find my way back. Thus, the rope.”

“What if that doesn’t work? Why can’t you just use a Point Me spell?” Harry asked. 

“I can’t bring my wand in.” Remus explained. Harry and Ron both gaped at him--he and Hermione had neglected to pass that on. Remus held up a book he had found not too long after realizing where Sirius must be and read aloud:

“Reports of the Wizarding Council, c.1702

Anyone with the magical signature of a wizard cannot enter The Other Place at will. When they attempt to do so, they experience horrific pain, usually death. Only those with additional abilities are successful, but of the test subjects who have entered, those who carry a wand have never made it back. We have recruited some Vampyres from colonies outside of wizarding society to more promising results, and also found that those who do have wands and choose to leave them outside The Other Place are more successful.” 

He closed the book, eyeing Harry’s face carefully.

“More successful,” he said, angry. “Not successful, just  _ more  _ successful. What about Teddy, Remus? He just lost his mum. I grew up without parents, and it isn’t fun.” 

Remus winced at the reminder of what he might be putting his son through. “Harry, I know. I know. But I have to do this, I made a promise.”

“You’d be doing it even if you didn’t make that promise, and we all know it!” Harry exclaimed, raising his voice suddenly. “I want Sirius back as much as you do but he isn’t the only person in the world--he isn’t even IN the world. I know it’s important, but you could have put more foresight into this!”

“Just like you did with Horcrux hunting, mate?” Ron asked. Harry swirled around, his green eyes blazing, opening his mouth to respond.

“Ron…” Hermione said, cautionary. 

“Look, I’m just saying!” Ron said, his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “It kind of sounds like he has his hands tied here, just like we did. It’s just Dumbledore being Dumbledore again, innit?” That, for some reason, stopped Harry from retorting, and he closed his mouth. He turned back to Remus.

“Who brought up Sirius first?” he said, surprising them all.

“Erm...I think it was me?” Remus struggled to remember. “I just noticed that he wasn’t on the train.”

“And this train, it had everyone who you knew and cared about and died on it?” Hermione butted in. Remus suddenly realized what she was pushing for.

“You think it was...a vision, or something, don’t you?” He asked. She nodded, sympathy in her eyes.

“I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time Dumbledore manipulated someone to death’s door for his purposes,” Ron pointed out, indignation in his voice. At Remus’s questioning look--he had never heard the young man talk badly about Dumbledore--he shrugged. “You start to change your opinion about someone after you realized they gambled with your best friend’s life.” 

“And what kind of coincidence is it that only a werewolf or other kind of magical being can get through the veil, and Dumbledore just so happened to save the only magical being we know of who would give anything to save Sirius?” Harry added in. Remus sighed, looking between the three.

“It wouldn’t be the first time Dumbledore manipulated  _ me  _ to death’s door,” he agreed.

“And that curse he said you were hit with? The one that killed you slowly? I don’t think it really exists,” Hermione admitted. “I’ve been researching it.” 

“So you think I was probably dead and he can bring people back if it works for him?” She nodded. Remus didn’t like it, but it did make sense, with everything he knew about Dumbledore now. Merlin. At least the next generation seemed a little less likely to listen to authority blindly, even if he never thought he would fall under the list of people who did. 

“So you can’t do it!” Harry concluded, triumphantly. “Not until we have a better idea of if it’s safe or not.” 

“Harry, this doesn’t change anything,” Remus said, sadly. “I still made a vow, and there’s a kind of ancient magic there that can’t be broken, regardless of any manipulation. And you’re right--if there’s any chance of saving Sirius, I would do it no matter what. I already failed him once. I won’t let it happen again.” 

Harry looked as though he wanted to keep protesting but decided against it. He gave a brief nod and then, to Remus’s surprise, threw his arms around him once again. 

“Please be careful.” he whispered. Remus tried not to let it show how touched he was. 

Hermione, more business-like, handed him a backpack. “Right. There’s a torch in there, replacement batteries, two bottles of water, and a couple bars of chocolate. I know it’s nothing compared to a wand, but hopefully you won’t be...I don’t know. If you’re not out in a few hours, I’m pulling you out with the rope.” Remus nodded his thanks, taking the bag from her before tying the end of the rope like a belt in his belt loops and whispering an extra-strength sticking charm to ensure it wouldn’t come loose. Hermione performed a Permanent Sticking Charm on the other end, sticking it to the ground not too far away from the dias. Remus gave it an experimental tug--it gave no sign of budging.

“Do you have the potions?” he asked Hermione. 

“How much of this did you two plan without talking to me?” Harry burst in, apparently unable to keep his mouth shut for much longer. Remus sighed.

“Most of it, because we knew you would object,” he said. “A trick I picked up from Sirius and your father.”

“Well, they’re both dead, aren’t they? So why are you picking up tricks from them?” Remus flinched at the reminder. 

“Harry…” Hermione said, placing a placating hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off. 

“Remus, you’re all that’s left!” he said, angry. “You’re the only person alive who really knew my parents, and who knew Sirius, and probably the closest thing I have to family, and what about Teddy?!” Harry’s reaction made a lot more sense to Remus, now. He hadn’t known...now, he could hear the unspoken ‘what about me?’ that Harry didn’t seem willing to articulate. 

“I will do my best to remain safe and save Sirius.” He said, solemnly. “And if not...I had always hoped to be godfather to a sibling of yours. I believe I would have been, if it were not for the war.” Harry let out a kind of strangled gasp. “And I am happy to consider you my family. I only wish I had been allowed to see you before you were thirteen.” Harry smiled weakly, eyes glimmering a little bit. “But I will not say goodbyes now, as I fully intend to return.” 

“What are you taking?” Ron asked, eyeing the flask Hermione had produced suspiciously. 

“It’s the Draught of Living Death--” he held up a hand before Ron could join Harry in his protestations. “I need to be as close to a non-living being as possible without actually being dead in order to move successfully within nonbeing. This is the best way. I will drink it and Miss Granger will immediately stun me into the veil. I will fall backwards. Because the veil leads to a kind of stasis, as far as we can tell, the Draught of Living Death will not reach a serious level until if--when--I reemerge. We have the antidote on hand.” 

“Why take it at all, then?” Harry asked, still sounding relatively confrontational. “Why risk it?” 

“Sirius has been in Nonbeing for years. I need as much of an advantage as I can have, and the closer I am to...stasis--not death, mind--the more I control I will have there, and the less time it will take me to find him. Hermione will stun me before I lose consciousness, and I should be fine once beyond the veil. If not...well, thanks to Hermione’s spellwork, you’ll know.” He gestured to the rope, which was currently glowing a vibrant green not unlike a Muggle traffic light. 

“Good luck, Remus.” Hermione said, handing him the vial. He moved into position directly before the Veil. 

“You can do it,” Ron said, dubiously. Harry didn’t say anything, merely looking pale and worried. Remus gave them all a shaky smile and downed the potion.

It didn’t take long for his vision to begin to cloud while the fog of the Draught began to creep over him. He heard a quick “Stupefy!” and then he was falling backwards, into absolute, incomprehensibly black, darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this update--between Thanksgiving, grad apps, and finals, I've been swamped! The next chapter will be Remus searching for Sirius Nowhere, and it'll be up as soon as I can finish it! Thank you for reading!


	6. which is to say, everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus wasn’t sure how long he fell, it could have been a minute or even a year. He was painfully, ironically reminded of the Muggle children’s story, Alice and Wonderland. Down, down, do-  
> Ow.

Remus wasn’t sure how long he fell, it could have been a minute or even a year. He was painfully, ironically reminded of the Muggle children’s story, Alice and Wonderland. Down, down, do-

Ow.

He hit the ground with a jolt, sudden enough for him to bite his lip in the process. He tried to look around him, but it was so dark that he couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face when he held it out. He reached for the torch Hermione had given him and clicked it on. The light wavered for a moment but it remained on. Okay. So torches functioned Nowhere, or Non-being, or wherever he was. He waved in in front of him--it looked like he was on solid ground. He took a tentative step forward, then another one, and another, until--

In front of him loomed a what looked like a city built of...well, stuff. It looked like a cross between the Room of Hidden Things and a hoarder association’s lifetime yard sale, but it was eerily silent, not a single breath--even, Remus realized, his own. 

He cast the beam of light around to get a better idea of his surroundings, but immediately felt the hair raise on his arms. As he turned the torch around, the silence was more steadily replaced with whispers, something unintelligible that seemed just out of his reach. He spun around a little more wildly, and felt fear shake him to the bones when he saw a shadow elongate and seemingly move toward him.

“You should turn off the torch,” a voice sounded. Remus whirled around again to see…

“Dora?” he gasped. Not really the lover he had been looking for, but not unwelcome. But she was pale, her hair was almost pale instead of its normal vibrant shade. 

“In the...well, not flesh, but as close as I think I’ll ever get again,” she smiled, somewhat wrily. “Seriously, Lupin, turn off the torch. They’ll know you’re here if you keep shining it in their eyes.

He reached out his hand out to hers out of habit. She responded in kind, but her hand slid right through his more solid one. “Who are they?” he asked. A look of utter fear flashed through her face at the question--something he had rarely seen on her face, even at the height of the war. 

“Try what are they, husband,” she smirked at him. “And I don’t know. All I know is that they’re bad. And I know that you do not want them to know you’re here.”

“How are you even here?” asked Remus. “You’re dead.”

“Kind of like a Resurrection Stone, or a ghost, I think,” Tonks shrugged. “Pretty easy to enter into Non-being when you’re no longer in existence, but not permanently. C’mon, let’s get you away from those things.” She leaned up, her lips attempting to graze his cheek, sending a shock of cold air through his body when they couldn’t quite make solid contact. 

“So do you know where Sirius is?” He asked, looking around. Tonks shook her head fondly at him. 

“Always Sirius, never time for your wife,” she winked. “I only know where he’s not. Which is...he’s not at the outskirts. I’ve had enough time to look around them. I would head straight down the center. The higher the piles get, the closer you are to it. And for the love of everything, don’t turn on your torch or anything like it.”

“But…”

“Werewolf senses, Remus,” she practically sang. “Use them. There’s a reason why regular humans can’t survive here. Several reasons, really. But one of them is the fact that we really can’t see in the dark. One torch or Lumos and we’re dead. But you can finally put those wolf eyes to good use and navigate.” 

“Dora, you know that isn’t how it works,” Remus sighed. She grinned at him.

“Then how come you can see me right now?” she asked. “Normal rules don’t apply here.” Remus blinked suddenly, realizing that she was right, and he hadn’t noticed. She actually laughed at this, a clear sound which Remus had missed more than he had realized. “Goodbye, Re. I can’t go any further, but you better get back out. Our son needs you, after all.” She waved her fingers in the way she always had said goodbye before fading out into air. 

Remus missed her almost immediately. He had no choice but to follow her instructions, heading toward the center of what seemed to be...well, everything that had ever been Vanished. It was riddled with small corridors, alleyways that reminded him of an ancient city--and perhaps it was, given that Remus had no idea when the Vanishing spell was first used. 

Every so often whispering would intensify and he would turn around and try to head as far away from the noises as he could. Dark shapes swooped over his head. The higher the piles of Vanished objects got, the colder and colder Remus became, even though he tended to run very warm. 

A sudden whimpering drew his attention. He turned down an alleyway, running as he realized that the person whimpering could be--

“Sirius?” he called. A lump of ragged robes dragged their body up, and looked at him. The face was sunken, the eyes more so. The being in front of him had long, impossibly long, matted hair, a beard that looked like it had been growing for centuries, and was certainly not Sirius. He stood up, shaking, barely able to stand. Remus almost gagged when he realized--the man’s face might be there, but his legs and arms had most of their bone exposed and the flesh on his shoulders was rotting further. The man smelled, and flesh was practically dripping off his body.

“The dog star?” the man rasped. “Is he one of mine?” Remus drew closer the....half-body. 

“One of yours?” he asked. The half-skeleton man coughed, dark slime rather than blood or spit coming out of his throat. 

“I had several sons.” the man got out, finally. “I believe it has been many years. I cannot remember all their names. I engaged their mother in wedlock because I was compelled to do so. They made me. I never wanted to father her children...I wanted…but I could not. She was gone, even after she was not.” The man seemed hysterical.

Remus had some idea where this might be going. “Who made you?”

“My family,” the man laughed. “My family compelled me to marry to carry on the line. The Blacks, you know. Descended from Aquinas, or so my esteemed family members say. Some wizard, the way they’ll tell you. They’ve got to have a certain kind of lineage. I don’t know if it would have ever worked out.”

“Altair. Why are you here?” 

“How do you know my name? I do not believe that we have ever crossed paths... “ Remus couldn’t help but notice his accent shifting rapidly between some modern speech and something much older. 

“I read your journal. You were around the Wizard Council, right? You had a lover...what happened to her?” he asked. The other man flinched at the mention of the lover, a motion which made his exposed bones rattle together. 

“She...she did not want to be alive,” he began, flinching as he did. “Ever since she returned she was someone else. She was not the woman who I longed to marry. She was distant...and one day, she decided to try to go back. I chased her but…she was gone. I tried to find her but my family insisted upon the marriage arrangement they made for me. I was there for seventeen years, until she visited me in a dream. She told me to go through the veil and begged me to save her. So I did.”

“But you got stuck here,” Remus completed the man--Altair’s---sentence. 

“Not alone,” he responded. Remus looked at him in confusion. The half-decayed man gestured to the bones around him--more, now, that Remus was paying attention, than he would have expected. “She was here.”

“How long have you been alone?” Remus asked, couching beside the man.

He looked up, pain in his eyes. “I don’t know anymore. When I found her, half of her left leg was missing. It didn’t take long for the rest to go. Three, maybe four years, here, since I got in. Time passes differently here than there. My children must have children of their own. What...year is it?” 

Remus knew better than to answer that in full. “You’re not wrong. It’s been a while. But I’m afraid I am not here on a social call.” 

Altair jerked his head up, comprehension showing in his clouded eyes. “You are here for your lover too. You have fallen into the same trap. Nobody can survive this place. They leave me alone because my resources have dwindled enough that I am no longer interesting to them. They crave fresh energy.” 

“What? Who are they?” Remus couldn’t help but shudder at the sheer fear on Altair’s face at the word ‘them.’

“I do not know. We were never able to discover their nature. I am probably among those who know the most about them. They latch onto your very core. They render you incapable of dying until they have fed all they can from you. They take away the hope, joy, and love that you has felt throughout their lives, but that is only the beginning. That is the first to go. They then move onto your physical body, weakening the skin, muscle, and bones until you cannot stand without your legs breaking, nor support your own body. Magical power is the next to follow after physical. I used to...I could do a significant amount of nonverbal magic. I could still summon. Until I could not. Then, last, is mental. But now that I cannot keep track of years, think of a spell, nor remember my sons’ names...I have grown tasteless, useless to them. I am merely a corpse waiting for them to finish me off, render me entirely comatose or stop my heart. One or the other.”

“You can’t…”

“Die, no. Not until they decide to kill me. No natural deaths, here. I watched...I watched it happen to her.” His eyes flickered slightly, signs of an inability to stay conscious.

Remus knelt down beside him, urgency mixed with nerves thrumming through his veins. “Altair. Altair, please. Your journal said she came back, you said she came back for a time. How did you save her? What went wrong?”

His breathing was labored. “The creatures. They only feed on humans. Anything else is...relatively safe. But she was here for too long, and something other than the creatures got to her. Everything is here. Everything good and bad is here. Something...she saw things here and she wanted them back. I don’t know exactly what. She never told me and by the time I got here…” The other man didn’t seem to be able to finish a sentence, unconsciousness taking over.

“She was too far gone.” Altair nodded in confirmation even as he began to slump, some form of sleep. Remus somehow doubted it was peaceful.

He muttered a thank you, and began walking away. Suddenly, struck by a compulsion he couldn’t quite explain, he turned around and muttered a prayer he had learned back...probably before the bite...for a good night’s sleep. Useless, certainly, but the only thing he could do. Then, he turned and began sprinting. Sirius had been here for at least two years and he would not let himself be too late. 

***

At some point, Remus realized he had no idea how long he had been searching for Sirius, or where he had and hadn’t searched, but the towers of objects kept looming higher and higher. He felt dizzy, his eyes seemed unable to focus. He felt as woozy as he used to during History of Magic, which was saying something. 

“Remus. Stay alert,” a familiar voice whispered. “This place wants you to forget. That’s good.”

“James?” Remus half-slurred, woozier than he had realized. He tried to move, looking around for his friend. He felt like he saw a glimpse of his friend’s messy black hair, or a flash of his glasses. The man’s laugh seemed to echo in his ears, filling him with warmth, almost a hug. “Why…?”

“You have to save Padfoot, Moony…” It was a friendly whisper, and if Remus ignored the entirety of his current life situation, he could almost pretend as though James was standing next to him under the invisibility cloak, plotting the map. “You’re getting close to him, it’s trying to distract you. You always were the best of us.” 

“I was never--”

‘And you were always wrong.” Wind whooshed by him. He spun around but instinctively knew that any kind of contact with James had been cut off. He always did like to have he last word, bastard. 

Still, the conversation had made his head clearer, and so he pressed on. 

***

This had to be the center of this maze of Vanished items. The towering objects went further up than he could see, and the air was so cold he felt as though his breath would freeze in midair. He spun around, looking desperately for any kind of hint. 

“He’s that way.” 

Remus whirled around, going for his wand automatically only to find that it wasn’t there. Peter shrugged at him, his eyes darting in his characteristic way--perhaps his shifty attitude should have warned them sooner. 

“Sirius. You’re looking for him.” the rat wasn’t asking. And suddenly, Remus realized this was the first time he had seen the man since the night he had almost killed him. 

“You killed our best friends.” 

Peter shrugged. No remorse, even in the afterlife. “I sided with the winning side.”

“Both times, you lost.” Remus half-yelled. 

Peter shrugged again. Always so non-commital, until he decided to commit to being a fucking Death Eater. “Yet I’m not the one who lost everyone I’ve ever loved.” 

Remus really did punch him this time, which led to some version of cackling from Peter. 

“I’m dead, idiot. You can’t hurt me.” He grinned. “But other things can hurt Sirius.” Peter disappeared, just as Remus geared up for a second punch. 

“Fucking damnit,” he swore in the empty air in front of him. He turned in the direction which Peter had indicated, but something in his gut told him that Peter was, as he had historically been, untrustworthy. He set out in the other direction. 

His gut decision was confirmed when he heard a very familiar dog whimpering. 

“Padfoot?” he called. “Padfoot!!?” 

The whimpering grew fainter and, praying to anyone--usually, he’d say Merlin, but now he knew maybe too well what Merlin was--who would listen that it was really Sirius and not some kind of trick, he ran toward the noise.

It drew closer and closer until he saw six, perhaps seven, dark figures surrounding a prone figure. He wanted to scream. He knew that dog. 

Instead, a noise that he had never heard from himself in human form was torn from his throat. His snarl drove back the figures--reminiscent of Dementors, but definitely more sinister--and revealed a feebly stirring male body where a dog’s body had previously been. 

“Sirius!” Remus ran towards the other man, his breath coming in short gasps of panic and exertion. He bent over Sirius’s almost prone body. Blood was leaking from the corner of his mouth, and he was deathly pale. He lifted Sirius up, noting almost automatically that the other man’s body was definitely lighter than it should have been. And god, Sirius was limp in his arms and possibly too close to death for comfort, but he hadn’t seen that face in years and something clenched in his heart as he lifted the other man up and carried him toward the veil, following the rope that was still affixed around his waist.

***

On the other side of the veil, Harry, Ron, and Hermione anxiously monitored a rope, the end of which flashed green and sometimes yellow, indicating caution and concern, but minimal danger. 

The rope drew in on itself at the base, so the trio could tell that Remus was approaching. Harry whooped loudly when they first realized, Ron exclaiming in excitement as well as he went to get Sirius’s official pardon from the Ministry to show Sirius once he was free. Hermione, for her part, was more concerned.

As usual, she was proved right when the rope’s end flared a bright, bright red. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to post more regularly once my finals are over but thank you for being patient and for the lovely comments! This chapter was supposed to be about half this size but oh well. 
> 
> Also implied but not stated, because I don't want to echo fics I've read before but also bc I don't know how to fit it in, is that Dementors emerged bc of this place and specifically (in my fic's case) bc of Altair being stuck there.


	7. back to haunt you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nowhere has begun resisting Sirius's removal and Remus isn't sure if they can make it out.

It wasn’t until Remus had passed where he spoke with Altair that Nowhere started resisting Sirius’s removal. With each step that Remus took, he felt more and more like he was wading in mud, not able to move his body like he wanted to. He was hyper aware of something—although nothing showed itself—watching their every move. Finally, after what felt like days, he drew close enough to see a fluttering veil standing on its own in a completely dark space, only ten meters away. Sirius was feebly stirring in his arms, clearly experiencing some discomfort of his own as they moved further away from the center of Non-being. To Remus’s dismay, the other man’s breathing was getting weaker and weaker. Sirius was running out of time, but they were so close.

Almost as though his fears had conjured it, a wheezing, rattling noise filled his ears as the shadows materialized into shapes. The one closest to him flickered weakly, shifting from a dark shape to a full moon and back. Remus sucked in a surprised breath when he realized what that meant. Boggarts, here? 

Then again, he never had bothered to consider where Boggarts went after they were banished. He had assumed they had just stopped existing. Now, though, he thought that there was a distinct possibility that nothing ever stopped existing, just...came into Non-being. 

The Boggart in front of him let out a kind of shriek, and other dark shapes swooped around him. Remus had a distinct feeling of dread building up in his stomach. A couple boggarts were all very fine and well, but this many? Without a wand? And somehow able to make noise?

The boggart shifted again, this time falling over as Harry’s dead body, rather than the moon. Remus flinched—apparently they could see multiple fears, not just the biggest one, without any kind of interaction. Normally it took a poorly cast Riddikulus for that. The situation was complicated by another flicker: the boggart next to the dead-Harry one arranged itself into a dead Teddy. It was followed by Andromeda, Minerva, Molly, Arthur, Hermione, Ron...anybody who was still left alive was suddenly collapsed in front of him, bleeding and dying. He could almost hear Peter’s words taunting him. 

Remus had half a mind to close his eyes and just charge forward when, as one, all of his dead friends stood and advanced towards him. The Harry one screamed again, a blood-curdling shriek which was echoed by the others. Remus’s ears throbbed, as hands reached for him, trying to pull him to the ground.

Blinking back tears that he didn’t even realize he was beginning to cry, Remus shouldered his way forward. He hefted Sirius’s prone body onto his back in a fireman’s carry, using his free hand to do something extremely un-Remus-like: punch his way through. He did try to cast a few nonverbal Riddikulus charms, but found it a little hard to concentrate on humor at the moment. 

He was less than five meters away from the veil when world shifted sideways, a disorienting sensation which threw Remus to the ground, causing him to drop Sirius with a heavy thud. He glanced up and, to his dismay, saw a slow trickle of blood come from Sirius’s mouth. Fuck. 

Remus scrambled back to his feet, still instinctively reaching for his absent wand, when he realized that the boggarts had disappeared. In fact, every part of Non-being was gone except for the archway and veil and…

Ah.

An identical archway and veil. 

He gave an experimental tug to the rope on his waist, confirming that it only went into one of them. Thank goodness Hermione had thought something like this through.

He knew, somewhere in his bones, making his skin crawl, that there was something different about the new arch. Wherever it led, it wasn’t somewhere he could come back from. 

A slow cackle filled the space, followed by an almost snarl. 

The next obstacle. Of course, it couldn’t be...well, it had long surpassed simple. 

“So you’re trying to save him. He never was worth much, pathetic little thing.”

“Oh, come now Bella. He was worth much more than this mongrel. Couldn’t even admit what he was. Much more than human.” 

“Disgusting,” the first person spat. 

Remus tensed. Two voices he would know anywhere—Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback emerged from the other Veil, taunting one another as they taunted him. 

“What do you want?” Remsu asked, almost a snarl. To his dismay, Greyback chuckled, making his skin crawl.

“That’s it, Lupin,” he drawled. “Growl at me. Embrace who you are. Look…” He waved a half-clawed hand, the full moon sliding into place above them. “Embrace it.”

To his dismay, Remus felt a familiar prickling in his hands and his joints—where it always started. 

“No,” he spat, resisting as he had since he was a child. “I will never embrace it.” How could Greyback control this place? That sick, too-familiar cackle filled the silence as the needles within his skin intensified. 

“Aww...the half-breed things he has some control. Listen to me, werewolf. We are dead, but more importantly, we know who we are. We can control every aspect of this plane because we are part of it and we know our own power. You can’t. You won’t acknowledge that you’re a monster and you don’t have the strength to seek power.” Her voice grated on his ears the same way that it did when she had torn away from the Department of Mysteries some two years before, taunting Harry about Sirius’s death. 

“Shut up,” he wished he had a better retort. 

He thinks he can save his pathetic lover,” Bellatrix laughed, turning to Greyback.

“You think they’re pathetic now? You should have seen them in school,” another voice joined the fray and Remus shuddered. He tightened his grip around Sirius’s prone body as much as he could, his own arms trembling from some combination of fatigue, grief, and fear. “Always staring after each other, too cowardly to speak to one another, too idiotic to notice what was always among them.” 

“A fucking traitor,” Remus snapped. Peter shrugged. 

“Better a traitor than an idiot. At least I knew where the chips would fall, unlike...I don’t know...James? Lily? Even Sirius, in the end? Pathetic, all of them.” he sneered. Remus wanted to lunge at him, but he knew automatically that if he let go of Sirius, he would never see him again. 

“Too pathetic to even fight. That’s how I was able to kill his wife so easily, you know.,” Bellatrix chimed in. “Then again, he never loved her.” 

Remus knew he was being taunted by what were essentially, the ghosts of his past. It didn’t stop him from whirling around to glare at her. “I did love Dora. She was the best thing that could have happened to me after…”

“After I murdered the actual person you loved, you mean?” Bellatrix cackled. “Killed them both, didn’t I.” 

“You can love more than one person,” Remus snapped. “And I love them both. In different ways. Not that I would expect you to understand, you heartless bitch.”

“Wow, the b-word from mister Prefect? I thought you were always trying to be perfect to compensate for your monstrosity!” 

“Shut the fuck up, Peter.” Remus snarled. “Or I will kill you a second fucking time.” 

“That’s it, baby,” Greyback drew entirely too close to Remus, a disgusting tone which he had heard entirely too often from other werewolves when undercover for Dumbledore. “Give in to it.” The moon seemed to grow stronger, a pulse that echoed under Remus’s skin. “Come on. It’s easier to be the wolf when you want it. Stop fighting it, Lupin.” 

Remus was more...interested than he wanted to admit. Something about the power of this place, and the people surrounding him closer and closer made him feel woozy, awful.

Sirius saved him, as Sirius had been wont to do throughout their lives, by letting out a single, shuddering gasp. Almost a dying rasp. All of the sudden, any kind of thrall the awful place had on him was cleared. He tightened his grip around the other man’s prone body and spun around, following the rope he still had tied around him. 

“Running way, coward?” Peter’s voice echoed. Remus wanted to scoff at the idea of him calling anyone else a coward, but he didn’t turn around. Even though the air felt like molasses, he pushed forward, foot after foot until he, barely able to stand, collapsed through the ratty veil. 

***

Hermione was staring, her gaze glancing between the veil and the end of the rope to see one part flashing red and the other part concerningly still when, suddenly, the veil fluttered quickly. 

Remus Lupin tumbled out of the veil and wheezed, the Draught of Living Death taking hold. She rushed forward, as she had promised to, and administered the antidote quickly, within four breaths of his return.

“Sirius,” he gasped, as the antidote took hold. He slumped over, but his breathing was steady. Remus was out of the danger zone. 

Sirius, however, was not. Harry rushed forward, grasping the prone body that Remus cradled in his arms. 

“Hermione,” Harry said, staring at his friend. “Please, help. Is he okay? Can you help him?” 

Hermione rushed forward with the strengthening droughts she and Remus had prepared in advance. She poured it down the man’s throat and both she and Harry offered each other weak smiles when Sirius choked a little, and then coughed. 

Ron rushed into the room and looked at the scene before him. His girlfriend and best friend were on the floor, Harry cradling Sirius—Sirius!—in his lap, and Remus breathing steadily not too far away.

“Hey,” he gasped. Remus stirred a little bit. Hermione and Harry both jerked their heads up in unison, a gesture which made Ron grin an inordinate amount. “I got his pardon and...well, I thought they might need it so…” He reached in his pocket and pulled out the bounty from his additional stop. “I brought chocolate bars.” 

The other two grinned at him, Remus fluttered his eyelids open and even Sirius stirred a little.

They might just be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Apologies on the update delay...again, the full finals + holiday combo is not the best for creative output. I know it got a tad weird but I hope it was enjoyable! And, as you may be able to tell, we can see the light now.


	8. The living are dead & the dead are all living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Remus is in St. Mungo’s

Remus let out an unexpected but entirely welcome gasp as he flickered his eyes open. He had been slipping in and out of consciousness for...some time, at least, it would seem. Instead of the eerie light of the Veil Room, he was faced with the crisp light and blank ceiling of a St. Mungo’s ward.

He bolted upright. How long had he been unconscious? When did he get here? Last he remembered, he had just gotten through the veil with--

“Sirius?” he croaked, realizing too late that he probably shouldn’t mention the condemned murderer after having been found in a government building.

“Don’t worry, he’s here,” a familiar voice responded. Remus turned to see Ron sitting at his bedside. “Harry’s with him now, he’s a ward over. Hermione’s just gone for a cup of tea. Here, drink this.” Ron passed him a glass of water, which Remus accepted gratefully.

“He’s alive?” Remus asked, trying to keep the frantic tone out of his voice.

Ron nodded cautiously. “Yeah, he’s breathing. He’s still unconscious though.”

“How long has it been?” Remus cast around for a calendar, or clock, or anything.

“Three days since you came back out of the veil. The Healers think he’ll be okay.” he responded reassuringly. Remus wanted to ask more questions--how did they get here? Was Sirius’s pardon in effect?--but was interrupted by the ward’s door opening.

“Hello! You’re awake!” A tall Healer with curly hair walked in. “My name is Healer Clearwater and I’m your and Mr. Black’s primary healer. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I was a seventh year when you were the Defense professor. I’m fairly certain I passed my NEWTS because of you.”

“Erm...yes...Penelope, right?” Remus stammered out, surprised. “You were dating Percy?” Healer Clearwater rolled her eyes at the mention of her presumably ex-boyfriend.

“Emphasis on the were, thank Merlin--sorry, Ron.” Ron shrugged as though in agreement. “Now, let’s see how you’re doing, Professor. Or, sorry, Mr. Lupin.” She waved a wand in front of his face, performing a series of vitals that Remus was all too familiar with after dozens of hospital wing visits over the years. “Remarkable,” she murmured.

“Pardon?” he asked. She jumped as though she wasn’t aware she had spoken out loud.

“Oh! Sorry! It’s just that I’ve never gotten the chance to examine a werewolf before, and I did your check-up when you first entered, and your healing is really remarkable,” she blurted out self-consciously. “I wonder if…” She shook herself, clearly dismissing a thought. “Now is not the time, my apologies. You’re healing nicely, and should be able to be formally discharged as early as tomorrow.”

“Can I--” She nodded as soon as he began speaking.

“Yes, you can go see Mr. Black as soon as I have performed his check-up. I’ll come back and inform you.” 

“Thank you, Healer Clearwater,” Remus breathed, forcing himself to relax instead of insist on running next door immediately. She smiled and gave a little wave as she walked out of the room. 

***

Sirius’s check-up seemed to take forever, but that may have been Remus’s own anxiety. Hermione came back with tea and they filled him in on what had happened while he had been unconscious. Apparently they had sent a Patronus to Kingsley, who had arrived with several of the on-duty Aurors to help Floo them to Mungo’s without question. From there, they had been admitted to the Ground Floor for artifact damage--nobody could think of anything else to categorize the Veil as. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had yet to go home, although they had contacted Andromeda and informed her (and by extension, Teddy) that Remus was alive. Molly Weasley had apparently shown up at some point the day after they arrived to berate the trio for their recklessness yet again, although once Hermione told her the precautions they took, she seemed to calm down a tad. Remus, for one, was glad he was unconscious for that portion. She had also, it would seem, brought several meals.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Healer Clearwater stuck her head back into Remus’s room with a smile.

“Okay, you can go ahead and see him,” she said. “I can even move you in there, if you want, the other bed in the ward just opened up.”

“That would be...thank you.” Remus responded gratefully. 

“Anything for the best Defense professor I ever had!” she beamed. “Okay, just go ahead in and I’ll have the staff turn over that bed for you.” With that, she left.

“Charming girl,” Remus said, turning to Ron and Hermione. Ron nodded, perhaps too emphatically. 

“Yeah, Perce really fucked up by letting that one go,” he agreed. Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes. “I mean...that woman?” Remus watched in amusement at their nonverbal communication. 

“Come on, Remus, Ron,” she commanded, grabbing her bag as she stood up. “I’m sure you want to see Sirius, although he is unconscious still.” 

Sirius. He was going to get to see Sirius, after so long, in this world rather than some kind of perverse hellscape. 

***

When he walked into the room, the first thing he noticed was how pale Sirius’s prone body looked. The second was the Muggle-IV machine hooked up with potions feeding into it, something Remus had never seen in a Wizarding hospital before. Harry, who was slumped against the wall in a chair near the bed, sat up straighter when the other three entered. 

“Remus!” he exclaimed, jumping up to offer his chair to the injured man, who gratefully accepted it. “How are you feeling?” 

Remus shrugged. “A little sore, quite exhausted, but nothing too horrible,” he said truthfully. “I think I got off rather easy, all things considered. My throat just hurts from the Draught.” Harry looked relieved to hear it, and Remus couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for worrying the boy. “How is he?” he asked, looking to Sirius’s too-thin face.

“He’s....alive,” Harry responded, somewhat incredulously. “They couldn’t get him to wake up enough to take a potion, so they’ve got this going,” he gestured toward the IV. “They’ve got Blood-Replenishing Potion in there, and some nutrients and stuff in the other one. They’ve also been performing some pretty weird counterhexes and stuff, I think it’s making a difference. He wasn’t breathing too well when we first got here. Pene--sorry, Healer Clearwater just came and gave him an injection of what she said was a modified version of the Restoring Draught used for petrification, which she called a ‘very good bet.’” Remus looked closely--Sirius did seem to be breathing steadily now. 

“How much blood had he lost?” Remus asked, eyeing the thick potion going through the IV closer to him. Harry shuddered. 

“Almost half a gallon. He was seconds from death when we brought him in, according to the healers.” Remus flinched in horror--to think, he had almost succeeded only to lose Sirius again. Harry nodded wearily, seeming to know exactly what Remus was thinking. Remus looked at the young man properly for the first time, taking in his unwashed hair and the bags under his eyes. Come to think of it, Hermione and Ron didn’t look much better.

“Why don’t you three go get some rest?” Remus suggested. “I can’t leave anyway, and I’ll be here if he wakes up, but I doubt that’ll happen instantaneously anyway.” They protested, predictably, but Hermione was the first to stop.

“Actually...I stayed up all night before we went to the Ministry finishing the potions. I think I do need some sleep.” She admitted. Harry and Ron’s twin looks of shock suggested how rare it was for Hermione to admit when she was tired--something Remus remembered all too well from his year of teaching her.

“I’ll come too, ‘Mione,” Ron said, reaching a hand out to her. She accepted it with a grateful smile. “Harry?”

He shook his head, characteristically stubborn. “No way. I’m staying here.”

“Harry, you’re no good to Sirius if you’re dead on your feet,” Remus said, gently. Harry fixed him with a stare that had Lily written all over it. 

“When you’re discharged, are you going to go home for more than it takes to see Teddy?” He asked shrewdly. Remus tried to muster up enough annoyance to glare, but a small smile kept breaking through. “That’s what I thought,” he added, correctly interpreting Remus’s silence. “Then I will also be staying here.” 

“Harry…” Hermione tried. He shook his head, not even giving her a chance to get the words out.

“C’mon, mate,” Ron placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Just get some rest and you can come back in a few hours.” 

“Nope,” he retorted, popping the ‘p’ sound harshly as he sank into a chair on the other side of the bed.

“Harry, honestly!” Hermione seemed to be losing her patience. “I know you’re stubborn, and tired, and mad we didn’t tell you the whole plan, but this is a bit ridiculous.” Remus suspected that, at this point, Harry was half just doing this to make a point. He did, however, understand the desire to stay in the hospital until Sirius woke up, so wisely remained quiet after his first try.

“Yeah, you know she’s right,” Ron added. Harry shook his head yet again, crossing his arms.

“I am sitting in this chair and I am not getting up until my godfather wakes up and tells me to go sleep himself.” He said calmly and firmly.

“Go to sleep,” a fifth voice said, weakly. All four turned quickly to look towards the bed where, frail-looking and alarmingly pale, but awake, Sirius Black looked back at them.

“Hello, everyone,” Sirius managed. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! The other two chapters are planned and prepared!!! Title is one of my favorite lyrics from the song this fic is named after.


	9. The war is over, and we are beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus wanted to scream, or laugh, or cry, or...yeah, he really couldn’t handle the emotions he was having.

Remus wanted to scream, or laugh, or cry, or...yeah, he really couldn’t handle the emotions he was having.

“Hi,” he got out, hearing his heart thud in his ears as he looked—Sirius was alive. Sirius was here. 

“Hi.” Sirius managed a smile in response. There was a slight noise—a squeak, if he was going to be honest—and Harry threw himself into a hug with Sirius.

“Ron and I are going back to Grimmauld Place!” Hermione said quickly, making quick eye contact with Ron. Remus noticed that Harry stared at them over Sirius’s shoulder. “Harry, we’ll wait in the lobby for you.”

Harry looked like he wanted to object, but Ron turned in a shockingly tactful gesture toward Sirius.

“Hermione and I are incredibly glad you’re awake, and alive,” he said. “But we are also going to leave you time to talk to Harry and Remus right now. So we’ll talk to you soon.” Hermione looked at her boyfriend in approval and they left the room. Remus gaped at him—Ron had come a long way since Remus had taught him. 

“So...it’s just us, I suppose,” Sirius rasped with an attempt of his normal humor. Despite himself, Remus smiled. Even if he didn’t still want him, Sirius was going to be okay, if he could still joke. 

“Sirius,” Harry breathed, rushing toward his godfather. Sirius winced as he threw his arms around him, but Remus forced himself to not rush forward. 

“Hey, kid. You seem taller,” Sirius said, wrapping his arms around his godson. Harry let out a choked laugh.

“It’s been two years,” Harry told him through some attempt at concealed sobs. Sirius made eye contact with Remus over Harry’s shoulder. His face seemed stoic, but Remus knew his panicked face after years. He nodded, slowly.

“I was unconscious for two years?” Sirius rasped fimally. Harry let out a sob into his shoulder, nodding a little bit. “Harry,” Sirius sounded choked up. “I am so sorry I left you alone for that long. What do we have to do? What’s next? How do we kill him?” Remus let out a tiny laugh that almost echoed Harry’s next sob. 

“I did.” Harry said, his voice as proud and convinced as Remus had ever heard him. He felt a surge of pride for the boy he should have helped raise. “I killed Voldemort. The war is over, and it’s done.” 

“We’re free,” Sirius said, his eyes filled with the kind of wonder that Reums always wanted to kiss into him. His eyes met Sirius’s and the sheer joy in them made Remus stagger back a step. He supposed it hadn’t hit him yet—they had been fighting the spectre of Voldemort since they were in their last year of Hogwarts, formally, and really since even before that. Plus, once Voldemort was defeated, Remus was preoccupied with rescuing Sirius. He had never—he hadn’t realised. “Re—we don’t have—we’re free,” Sirius gasped, looking at him. 

“I’m going to…” Harry trailed off. His clear discomfort brought Sirius and Remus out of their private celebration.

“Wait a second. Did we always sound like how we do now?” Sirius asked, looking at Remus—and for a second, Remus saw a young man in a dorm room, instead of not-young-enough man in a hospital bed. He nodded, smiling slightly at his—at Sirius.

“I think we might be the most obvious—and the most oblivious—couple in Hogwarts history,” Remus responded. 

“Harry—” Sirius broke off, his eyes filled with so much love that Remus wanted to cry. If Sirius was the closest that Harry would ever get to a father, he would do a damn good job. “I promise, for as long as I survive, that I am going to try my goddamn hardest to be there for you. But right now—”

“You need to see Remus,” Harry smiled, his eyes suspiciously bright. Sirius nodded in confirmation. “Well. A man I respect a lot has told me to go to sleep.” 

“Yes. Come back and see me tomorrow,” Sirius said, almost sternly. Remus could tell he wanted to object, but Harry smirked, his face contorting in a way that made both Sirius and Remus try to hide their flinch—he looked exactly like James when he did that. 

“I love you.” He said, his voice serious. 

Sirius’s voice was choked up when he responded, something Remus could understand. “I love you too, Harry. And thank you.” Harry hugged Sirius one more time before retreating from the room. Sirius turned to Remus. 

“Hey, babe,” He smiled. “I hear I was out for a bit?” Remus nodded slowly. There was no point in lying.

“You were,” he said, grasping Sirus’s hand. Merlin—God, even—-that hand. He never thought he’d be able to hold it again. “You were dead, Pads. For two fucking years, you were dead. And not...you didn’t seem dead, you didn’t appear dead, you fucking can’t try to find a short—

“I know—” Sirius cut him off, but Remus couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed. “No delusions. No shortcuts. I know I was dead, more or less.” Remus gaped at him for what was neither the first nor last time in his life and Sirius smirked a little bit, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t think I could forget that place if I tried.” Remus flinched, remembering what Altair had said. 

“You don’t...want to...how are you feeling? Is anything...wrong?” Remus stuttered out, not sure how to approach the subject of Nowhere. Sirius shrugged, wincing again. 

“Lights are too bright,” he started. Remus dimmed them as soon as the words were out of his mouth with a wave of his wand. Sirius smiled a little, gratefully. “I don’t know. I can kind of...see this weird light around you. It was around the kids, too. Bit of a weird noise. I kind of feel like I did after James’s stag party, honestly.” Remus shuddered at the memory—they had found out the hard way that magical acid had a hell of an after-effect. “But if I survived that hangover, I can survive anything.” 

“Pads...you didn’t survive. You got yourself killed,” Remus said, quietly. Something unreadable flickered across Sirius’s face. 

“Yes, but the bitch is back,” he winked at Remus, a gesture that was belied when it was immediately followed by a flinch, his eyes staring unfocused at something over Remus’s shoulder. Remus spun around to see that there was, as he expected, nothing behind him. 

“Pads? Sirius?” he said. Sirius gave a little jolt, and seemed to come back to the present. 

“Sorry, Re. I just...I thought I saw…” he shuddered. “Thank you for saving me from that place. That’s all. I’ll be fine.” Remus looked at him with concern, but any further conversation was interrupted by Healer Clearwater’s appearance.

“Mr. Black! You’re awake—excellent. I suspected that the Restorative Draught could do the trick. Now, I need to perform a somewhat extensive examination now that you’re awake, to figure out the extent of the damage.” She spoke very fast, Remus noted, and much more confidently than she had in school. “Mr. Lupin, I need to speak to Mr. Black alone, unfortunately—doctor-patient confidentiality, you know.” Remus nodded. The last thing he wanted was to let Sirius out of his sight, but he knew better than to argue. 

“I’ll go for a cup of tea,” Remus agreed. He squeezed Sirius’s hand as he stood up to leave. “I’ll be back soon, love.” 

***

Remus delayed returning to the room as long as he could force himself to, but it wasn’t long before he finally gave in to the urge to run back and confirm once again that Sirius was really alive, was really there. 

“Mr. Lupin, perfect timing!” Healer Clearwater exclaimed as he re-entered the room. The tightness in his chest eased up a little—Sirius was lying there, still awake, still alive. “I’ve just finished. Now, I presume that you are going to be keeping an eye on Sirius when he’s released?” 

“Oh—yes, of course. When do you think that will be? Is there any way for me to stay here as long as he does?” Remus didn’t think he could handle being in a different building than Sirius, not right now. Healer Clearwater seemed to understand, and smiled kindly. 

“Ideally, I would want to keep him longer for observation, but if you are able to stay home with him for several days and willing to report back to me once a day, I could release him into your care when you leave,” she explained. “Mr. Black, would that be suitable for you? Your condition is stable and unlikely to change in any significant way for the time-being, so I’m not worried about moving you.” 

“Yes...yeah, I would like to stay with Remus,” Sirius responded, uncharacteristically quiet. Remus smiled at him.

“Excellent,” she smiled again, before shifting to a more business-like tone. “Now, I need to inform you both about the possible side effects that Mr. Black might be experiencing. Unfortunately, we know very little about his particular...situation. The reason that I am your Healer is because I work primarily with the experimental and less-concrete side of Mungo’s, which your case certainly falls under. So I cannot say with any certainty what could happen, thus why Mr. Lupin, you must keep a close eye on him for the first few weeks. However, you have been exposed to a great deal of magic, primarily dark magic, for a very prolonged period of time, in addition to harsh physical conditions. In terms of physical ailments, we can expect some trouble breathing normally, along with general weakness and fatigue. Headaches are also extremely likely. You’re fairly malnourished, so make sure to eat regular meals—build up to something rich, start with simple starches. The magical effects are where it gets tricky. There will almost certainly be lapses in memory, conflating past and present, and sometimes even dreams and reality. That’s somewhat normal for this amount of prolonged magical exposure. Now, the circles of light you were talking about—it seems as though you’re sensing some version of magical energy. We don’t have any documented cases of that, so make sure to inform me of any change, but it doesn’t seem sinister as much as strange. The ringing in your ears should fade before you’re checked out tomorrow, that’s also fairly normal. Any questions?” 

“Is the memory thing...permanent?” Sirius asked, still somewhat quiet. 

Healer Clearwater shook her head. “We have never seen a permanent case. However, the amount of time and exposure makes it difficult to say how long it could last.” Sirius nodded. “Excellent. I’m going to prescribe some headache potion for you that should be ready tomorrow, but for now, I’m going to continue my rounds.”

“Thank you,” Sirius said. 

“It’s my pleasure,” she said, smiling. “Mr. Lupin, could I have a word with you, actually?” Remus nodded and followed her out into the hallway.

“Is there something else wrong with him?” Remus asked, panicked. Still smiling, Healer Clearwater shook her head.

“Actually, no, I wanted to ask you something. You don’t need to answer now but as I mentioned, I’m part of the experimental team of Healers,” she began. “We’re currently working on ways to accelerate healing safely, especially with resistant wounds and ailments. I couldn’t help but be curious with the way you healed so quickly—we’ve been wanting to work with a werewolf due to the accelerated healing abilities, to see if we can isolate the factor that allows for that. I was wondering if I could ask you to come into my lab at some point in the next couple of weeks for some tests? Nothing invasive, but if we could safely isolate whatever it is, then we could potentially do some work with long-term patient injuries and spell damage.” 

Remus was flabbergasted. “Wait, you mean you want to use my blood or whatever it is for—”

“Healing, yes. I recognize that it’s unconventional but sometimes that’s how the best cures and medicine can be found!” She beamed. “Again, you don’t have to answer right now, just send me an owl in the next several days. No hard feelings either way, but you would be paid handsomely for your time—a wealthy hospital donor has allocated a significant amount of funding to this project.” Remus was pretty sure his jaw was hanging open. 

“Yes. I will—your team actually wants to have a werewolf help?” he asked, astounded. 

Healer Clearwater nodded enthusiastically. “They’ll be very glad I was able to talk to you about it, actually. We haven’t really been able to find many werewolves who would be willing to talk to us, you see.” 

Remus chuckled a little at that. Money or not, most werewolves would refuse to help wizarding society on principle alone. “I can imagine,” he smiled. “But yes, you can owl me the details but I’m more than willing.” If possible, her smile grew bigger at that.

“Thank you so much, Prof—sorry, Mr. Lupin.” 

“Please, you can call me Remus if we’re to work together,” Remus said.

“Thank you, then, Remus,” she amended. “Now, I imagine you want to get back to Mr. Black?”

“Yes, I certainly do. I’ll see you before checking out tomorrow?”

“Of course! Now get back in there.” She ordered, mock-sternly, before walking off down the hallway with a little wave. Remus did as the Healer had ordered.

“What was all that about?” Sirius asked as Remus came back in. 

Remus shook his head. “Nothing bad, but I’ll fill you in later. For now, I haven’t kissed you in two years so…” Sirius’s face lit up as Remus approached him.

“Please, let’s fix that,” he agreed. Remus didn’t bother to respond, leaning toward him and kissing him with every ounce of the passion, love, and loss he had felt for the past two years. When they pulled apart again, Remus’s vision was blurred, and he was fairly certain that Sirius’s eyes were a little watery too. 

“I love you.” He breathed, his hands entwined in Sirius’s hair. “I never told you enough. I love you so much.” Remus punctuated his sentences with brief kisses—on the cheek, on the nose, on the lips. Sirius let out a half-choked dry sob.

“I love you too, Re. I can’t...I’m so sorry.” 

“Just never leave me again, Sirius. Please, don’t…” He was really crying now. Sirius reached up and pulled Remus next to him in the hospital bed, wrapping his arms around Remus as he sobbed, rubbing soothing circles on his back. 

“Shh…” Sirius murmured, kissing the top of Remus’s head. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me.” Remus made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. 

“I would never want to,” he got out, shakily. Sirius tilted Remus’s chin toward him with a finger, leaning in to kiss him gently.

“Good. I love you.” Sirius said, barely pulling his lips away from Remus’s. Remus held back another sob—he didn’t think he would ever get to hear Sirius say that again. Sirius seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, and he pulled Remus in again before he could get words out. 

Remus didn’t mind. 

***

It was hours later—hours of kissing, and holding hands, and a much-needed recovery nap—that Sirius finally thought to ask. “How did you do it?” he said. Remus smiled shakily.

“That’s quite a story, love,” he responded, intertwining their fingers once again. 

Sirius squeezed his hand. “We’ve got time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done! The next chapter will be an epilogue of sorts. I'm also planning several time-stamp fics/fics in this 'verse because I didn't get to do very much with Teddy. I should finish the epilogue soon and then I'm going to start on a 5+1 type fic that focuses on Sirius's relationship with Teddy (starting with him finding out about him!).


	10. Up in our bedroom after the war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 1998, after the war is over

Grimmauld Place was practically unrecognizable, thanks to four months of Harry and Kreacher’s combined efforts. They had discovered a very pragmatic way to remove the shrieking portrait--namely, blasting the wall down and rebuilding it, and had continued to use this method for every horrid piece of art the Blacks had left behind. Hermione could be found murmuring things like “open-concept” and Ron, while potentially color blind, ended up being quite good at moving boxes with his old standby spell. He really did have a good grasp of Wingardium Leviosa.

Remus stood at the doorway to his and Sirius’s room, holding a tray with two cups of coffee. Repainted a light cream, the walls lit up with the weak December light coming in from the new window they had installed in place of the wall that used to hold images of Muggle women on motorbikes. A lump under the white bedspread stirred and Sirius poked his head out.

“What’re you doing?” He asked, faking a grumpy tone. “Get back over here.” Remus smiled fondly and walked over to the bed, bending down to kiss his partner and handing him his coffee.

“I can’t get back into bed, love,” he said when they finally broke apart. “Teddy’s already awake.” Sirius pouted at him.

“This is all happening because you went and got _married_ to my cousin! We could be having sex right now if you hadn’t banged my cousin! I was wasting away, good as dead, and you were _screwing_ my little cousin and making _babies_ with her.” Remus rolled his eyes fondly.

“I suppose I should just tell Ted you would rather have sex than have him around, then?” He asked. Sirius sat upright in the bed, comforter falling down to his waist.

“How dare you. I would give up sex in a heartbeat if I had to choose and you know it.” Remus chuckled, kissing him again. “Fine, go be a super hot, super good father. I’ll just languish.”

“Well, you could, but Minerva is here to see you,” Remus said over his shoulder, turning to go check on his son. “She’s waiting down in the sitting room.” At this, Sirius lept entirely out of bed.

“A house call from Minnie! For _me!_ I’m sure she’s come to ask my hand in marriage—which I will happily accept.”

“What about me?” Remus gasped, his hand flying to his heart as he played along with his lover’s antics.

“Our cohabitation must end but I will of course continue seeing you on the side. You may be my incredibly hot mistress, of course. I’ll be the talk of the club! The ravishing Minnie and delicious Remus, both attached to me!” He declared. Remus laughed and shook his head.

“Sometimes I think you’ve forgotten we’re not in Hogwarts anymore,” he joked. Truthfully, he loved seeing Sirius’s playful side—it had been a long recovery process, and Sirius had been rather unlike himself before the dramatics had began to creep back in.

“I have memory damage, how dare you,”Sirius gasped, softening his mock offended tone with a swift kiss.

“Get dressed, you ponce,” Remus smirked as he left the room, leaving Sirius to search for his pants.

Harry, who was walking by, let out a squawk. “Sirius! Remus! Close your door, for the love of Merlin!” He sped up, muttering to himself. “How many fucking times…”

The two men burst out laughing.

***

Remus had promised Andromeda that she could have Teddy for an afternoon and night, and so missed the conversation with Minerva as he packed his son up and took him over to her house.

“How’s that man of yours?” Andromeda asked as she poured their tea. Remus’s face must have betrayed him, because she chuckled. “I’ll take that as a very good, hmm? Don’t tell me anything else, he’s my cousin.” Remus could feel his face heating up as she turned to Teddy. “Your daddies are going to scar you for life, aren’t they?” Teddy let out a gurgle and turned his hair bright green.

“Oh—Sirius hasn’t—I don’t know if—” Andromeda turned back to Remus with a very familiar expression that clearly said ‘I am putting up with your bullshit because I love you but you are a ridiculous human being.’ Tonks had the same expression in at least two of the photos Remus had in his and Sirius’s room.

“Remus John Lupin, you listen to me,” she glared at him. “That man is as much Teddy’s father as you, and you better make sure he knows it. He’d never say anything, but I know he wants to be. So you tell him he’s welcome to the role.”

Remus swallowed the suspicious lump that had arisen in his throat. “Yes ma’am,” he said. Her face softened.

“Come here, kid,” she said, folding him into a hug. “I’m glad you’re my grandson’s dad.” Remus hugged her back, hard. “Now you have a child-free day, so go back to my cousin and stop him from whining that you pay more attention to Teddy than him.” Remus chucked—she knew Sirius, clearly.

***

“Sirius?” Remus called as he entered Grimmauld Place an hour later. He had taken advantage of the baby-free hours to go to the shops and get some necessities. He busted himself with putting the food away in the kitchen. “Sirius?” He called again, realizing the other man hadn’t responded. He would normally tell him before going out, and unless he was having another weird memory incident—

“In here!” came Sirius’s voice from their bedroom, stopping Remus’s panic in its tracks. He headed upstairs to see Sirius, dressed now, sitting on the edge of a neatly made bed, silhouetted against the window. He turned toward Remus and grinned, and Remus felt his heart skip a beat. “How’s Andy? Get the Moonslet dropped off okay?”

Remus made his way across the room to sit next to Sirius, sinking into the bed. “You know I think that sounds incredibly stupid. And she’s well, she sends her regards.”

“Ah, maybe I’ll come with you tomorrow to grab the tyke, say hi,” Sirius said, although his sentences were punctuated by sharp breaths as Remus began kissing his neck.

“Mmm,” Remus agreed, pulling back to look at him. “Listen, Andy said something to me that made me realize I had never said something to you about Teddy.”

Unexpectedly, Sirius’s face fell. “Oh. Right. Look, I’m sorry if I’ve stepped on your toes or anything, I mean, he’s your kid and not mine and—”

“Pads,” Remus said firmly, cutting him off with a kiss. “I want you to step on my toes—no, do not call that kinky, Sirius Orion Black!” He clapped a hand over Sirius’s mouth but his mischievous eyes betrayed his intent. “He’s your son too, Sirius. I want you, and Teddy, to know that. You’re as much his father as I am.” The glint of amusement had faded from Sirius’s eyes, leaving them suspiciously bright.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his tone muted. Remus smiled at him, his heart full of love.

“You could say I’m deadly serious,” he winked. Sirius let out a snort and leaned in to kiss him.

“Holy shit, we have a son!” Sirius exclaimed, after several minutes of prolonged kissing.

“Yeah, and you know the worst part?” Remus asked, slyly. Sirius narrowed his eyes at him.

“What…?” He drew out the word, clearly suspicious. Remus smirked.

“We didn’t even get the fun of making him.”

Sirius let out an almost-growl and reached for Remus, prying off his sweater and button-down in between kisses until—

“Seriously, you guys? You’re wizards! You can shut the fucking door from _where you are!!!”_

They probably were going to scar their son for life. They definitely had scarred James’s.

***

Much later, door closed, they were lying in bed, passing a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc in between them as though they were eighteen, not thirty-eight.

“That was…” Remus breathed, still panting.

“Yeah.” And oh, Sirius sounded wrecked and it was so hot that Remus wished he was actually eighteen and could get it up for another round. They weren’t fresh out of Hogwarts anymore—and they had wasted their time by not being together when they were.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” he said, thoughts of Hogwarts reminding him of their earlier house-call. “What did Minerva want?”

“While dear Minnie is still not interested in being wed, to my dismay,” Sirius began, before his voice got a little more...well, serious. “She did ask me if I wanted to teach.”

Remus started, and turned to look at his lover. “Teach? Like, at Hogwarts?”

“Yeah,” Sirius smiled, almost shyly. “I guess she’s been doing Transfiguration herself and it’s gotten to be too much what with her being Headmistress and all, and she wanted to know if I would be okay being the Transfiguration professor. Said I was one of the best students she ever taught, me and James, and that she thought that _before_ she knew about the Animagi thing.”

“Sirius! Why didn’t you tell me right away?” Remus exclaimed, beaming. “That’s amazing! Do you want to take it?”

Sirius nodded. “I mean, if it’s okay with you, I think I’d like it a lot. And I miss Hogwarts.”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay with me?” Remus asked, perplexed.

“Well, I know you really liked teaching Defense and if you’re upset she asked me to fill a teaching position and not you...plus, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to move to Hogsmeade...and I’d rather live with you…” he trailed off, looking at Remus with clear anxiety. Remus reaches out and drew the other man closer to his chest, dropping a kiss on the top of his head.

“I did like teaching,” he began. “But McGonagall has that Order-member-roster going for teaching the kids, since they all want combat and defense spells anyway after last year, and I get to give a couple seminars. And it wasn’t my dream job, by any means. It was too hard, with the full and everything. Plus, I’m kind of hoping Harry will be offered the position, when he’s ready.” Sirius nodded emphatically. “And I’m going anywhere you’re going, idiot.”

“Then...okay...I guess I’ll take it,” Sirius said, his grin betraying his cool tone.

“I can always just be a stay-at-home dad,” Remus suggested with a matching smile. Sirius suddenly looked incredibly shady. “Sirius? What?”

“Erm, can I give you your Christmas gift early?” Sirius asked, avoiding eye contact.

“It’s December sixteenth.” Remus pointed out.

“That’s only nine days! Please?” Sirius wheedled and Remus, as he so often did, conceded. “Accio Remus’s Christmas gift!” An envelope flew into the room, followed by a small, messily wrapped package. “Do the envelope first,” he ordered. Remus stared at him for a second. He seemed to be nervously vibrating.

Remus slowly pried the envelope open and pulled out what appeared to be a photo clipped from the Prophet, from a month or so ago. It was a picture of the empty Tomes & Scrolls storefront, a for sale sign in the window.

“BOOKSTORE IN HOGSMEADE FOR SALE,” the caption declared. Remus looked at the picture and up at Sirius, uncomprehending.

“Okay, now the parcel,” Sirius got out. Remus obeyed, although he didn’t understand why the other man was so nervous over a gift until—

A key fell out of the box he had just unwrapped. Remus looked between the photo and the key in shock.

“Sirius…” he said, slowly, as realization dawned on him. “Did you buy Tomes and Scrolls?”

“Well, I just remembered when we were kids, you’d always say if you could do anything you’d own a bookstore and you said it some during the Second War, when you said you wished that we could just be and not be scared of dying, you’d always say I would lounge around and you would run a bookstore, plus you can still have Teddy around really easily and not worry about the fulls—and not that you have to work but I know you want to and I figured you could use the pay from the Mungo’s thing you’ve been doing with Healer Clearwater for start-up costs and it’s got a three bedroom flat above it and sorry it’s just—” Remus cut off the steady stream of babbling with a deep kiss.

“Sirius. This is too much. I can’t accept it.” He said when they broke apart. Sirius, apparently expecting this objection, fixed him with a stare.

“You came back from the dead, risked your life with your—our—son, almost died _again_ by drinking a fucking Draught of Living Death, went through the goddamn veil without a wand, all to save me when I’d been gone for two years and there was no guarantee it would work. _That_ is too much. If I want to buy you a bookstore, I can buy you a goddamn bookstore, you’re the only reason I’m around to buy them anyway!” Sirius ended almost yelling, breathing hard, and Remus couldn’t do anything but stare at the beautiful, wonderful, insane man in front of him.

“Okay. That’s...okay. I’ll own a bookstore that you bought for me,” he conceded, still in shock.

***

_From The Quibbler, February 1999_

Moon and Stars Bookstore was officially opened on the first Hogsmeade weekend of the new term, a process sped along by the fact that one co-owner had purchased a significant number of books before telling the other co-owners about the store. The opening was incredibly busy, although that may have been due to any number of factors, as the war heroes known as The Golden Trio, along with other war heroes such as Neville Longbottom, were in attendance. Other possible attractions, other than books, include Puddlemere United Keeper, Oliver Wood, and the new heartthrob professor of Hogwarts and former convicted criminal, Sirius Black, one of the co-owners. This writer, for one, believes it may have been helped by the Crumple-Horned Snorkack pack that is rumored to have also been in attendance, as they are voracious readers. When asked for a comment, co-owner Remus Lupin expressed his gratitude for Sirius Black, and joy to be running a bookstore. Third co-owner, Edward “Teddy” Lupin said merely, “gah!”

—Luna Lovegood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!! It’s done! Thank you to everyone for your lovely comments and support. Next up is a fic that is losely going to be “5 milestones of fatherhood for Sirius.” LMK what you think of the ending!  
> Go check out the song with this same title because it’s r e a l l y perfect. Alternatively, check my Feels™️ Marauders playlist on Spotify. https://open.spotify.com/user/125092047/playlist/7qdb0ObkeUeWRGGFj4BkoZ?si=nI-BkXKPTxadI5EMPJVBgQ


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